Chef Michael Gasaway, Program Coordinator of the Culinary program at WITCC, shares a voicemail from his daughter Carli as a five-year-old with something important to tell her dad. In the blink of an eye, those childhood voices give way to an empty nest and three grown daughters. For Chef Gasaway, being a father has been the greatest gift, and a role that continues to shape him in ways he never could have predicted.
Have a message you keep? Email us at voiceimprints@kwit.org.
Bonus letter written by Chef Michael Gasaway:
It was 2006, and I thought I was a savvy girl-dad who knew all the ins and outs of being a parent. I thought I was somehow miraculously already prepared for sleepovers, pre-teen drama, puberty, zits, and so many other pitfalls.
I wasn’t. It was arrogance to think I was. That little voice that you hear on the message tricked me into thinking that I had super powers.
She would look up at you with these huge eyes, believing absolutely everything I said were facts that she should live her life by. That sort of unquestioned power, and the forever love she gave in that voicemail, led me to believe that I knew everything I needed to about being a dad.
Never was I more wrong.
I watched helplessly as my hubris fell apart time after time every time I couldn’t take painful or sad moments away from my girls. From sprained ankles to leaving them alone at Girl Scout camp-sometimes they just had to face things on their own.
This was further reinforced when our eldest came to our family at 18. I had no girl-dad wisdom for this teenager-I just floundered as a parent.
She was figuring out which paths to take, and I could only make suggestions. What a wonderful day it was walking her down the aisle-so confident of what she wanted. I loved her then and I love her even more now-giving me two beautiful grandchildren.
Practice makes perfect, I thought. The third child should be a breeze. Ha! Little did I know how this child would be the one who taught me the most about parenting and the world. Even as a grade schooler, she fought fiercely for justice. and every ounce of her was always creatively breaking the mold of my expectations. She destroyed whatever shaky parental confidence I might have had left in me.
And then, in the snap of a finger, time goes by and the second voicemail comes in…the girls are all grown and little Carli is flying to Europe - on her own. One more time she is proving to me that I really know nothing about being a dad, but… I am loving being along for the ride.
