A Letter to My Father

Dear Dad,

We watched a collection of Warner Bros. shorts in my History of Animation class this week, and ever since I can't stop thinking about Looney Tunes. And when I think about Looney Tunes, I think about you.

It made me realize that I don't thank you often enough for being such a wonderful father. Sure, there's the grand gestures made on your birthday, or Father's Day, the cards and ties and Brooks Brothers shirts. But I should thank you more than that, because you are an amazing parent on more than two or three days a year.

Watching Bugs and his pals come to life again immediately brought me back to the family room couch, before we shifted everything around, when both overhead lights worked in that room. I remembered discovering humor with you, watching your face as the jokes cracked smiles, and then chuckles, and realizing that same reaction occurring myself. The excitement of sharing these cartoons -- of their belonging just to us. And now, the notion that these cartoons came out when you were young, that you shared part of your childhood with me -- that makes it even more special.

It's the little things, the quiet moments, that I treasure the most. I remember late nights when I was sick, finding comfort in the long cartoon blocks on Cartoon Network. The experiences are intertwined, memories of Marvin the Martian and electric blankets and Coca-Cola running together. I have always been thankful for the lessons you've taught me, for the guidance and acceptance throughout my life. But revisiting these cartoons made me grateful for the less obvious gifts. My sense of humor and love of whimsy were definitely products of those countless ours with Chuck Jones and Tex Avery. And I know I should hold my common sense in highest esteem, but really, if I could only keep one thing it would be my sense of humor.

So thank you, Dad. Thanks for sticking me in front of the boob tube, for letting my brain rot for hours on end. It has made me who I am today, and made me aware of how indebted I am to you for that. I feel blessed, knowing that these cartoons endure through time, that Elmer Fudd will always be hunting wabbits, and that they are a part of my past, present, and future with you.

Love,
Maggie