2009.2 - DAD

As I reread what I’ve written here, I see I’ve never talked about Dad. It’s kind of funny, since he’s in every piece in some way. Through my life, he’s always been the one to encourage me when I wanted to do something new, stupid, or irresponsible, up to and including writing this book. When I told him that I was writing this, he said “Lizzie, there are a lot of good potters out there. I don’t know how many copies you’ll sell.” I told him that wasn’t the point, and that it was really for me, and my family and friends that I was doing this. That was enough for him. Dad always made me feel important and capable, and that I was the standard to judge by. It was a lot or responsibility, but it came with freedom and permission to do anything I wanted to do… except for quitting piano lessons when I was twelve. He reacted positively to all of my career decisions. First, to go to engineering school when women didn’t. Then to leave engineering to go be Jacques Cousteau, to leave that to teach, to leave that to have kids, to become a potter, to skate, to play tennis, to travel, and to take up the cello. It’s good to have someone who truly believes that you’re perfect. I’ll never have another.