Growing up, I was always a daddy’s girl. I thought my dad was invincible and my own personal hero. He would gather up the neighborhood kids for a friendly game of baseball or gladly take us all on a Saturday fishing adventure. I enjoyed our weekend family ‘rides’, when we would jump in the beloved station wagon and head out to an unknown location, often ending up at a lake.
I admired my dad’s big heart, always willing to help others or give his last dollar. He has the gift and ability to converse with people from all walks of life with such ease. He was and still is a gentle giant.
My father has always shown and made me feel loved. I remember when I would call him for advice late at night, he would do his best to console me and guide me in the right direction. I’m still not sure why I sometimes called my dad instead of my mom.
I always had a deep love and admiration for my dad, and as I grew older I kept my love for him deep in my heart; however, I relinquished feeling like a daddy’s girl, as I was now a women with a family of my own.