Once upon a time,
there was a man. This man stood eight feet tall, had hands of steel, and a look that could spoil milk. He had the strength of twenty men, a sense of immortality, and all the confidence to go with it. Found the love of his life at the age of five, and married her thirteen years later.
All the memories flood my mind as I sit here. All the fishing trips, the inside jokes, the soccer/t-ball teams, the lessons learned and "getting older" lectures all three of us have come so accustumed to. My parents said they wanted to be "young" parents, so they could still do things with their kids as they got older. Boy have we made some memories.
He's been my dad for almost twenty years now, and I still believe to this day, that I have the greatest dad in the world. We may not have had it all, but it sure felt like it. Nothing is stronger than the love of family.
When my parents dropped me off for the first day of college, he reached down and hugged me, and whispered that he was proud of me. I couldn't even watch them drive away, due to the tears that were rising at the corner of my eyes.
To me, he is still eight feet tall, and as strong as any other. He seems pretty immortal to me, just with a little less hair.
A son's greatest hero.
A daughter's first love.
Happy Birthday FaFa. I love you :)