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Dad.

I dreamed that one day tiny tots would pull on my pant leg, waiting to be picked up, calling me by that name.

And they did.

Two beautiful girls. Prettier than any I’d ever seen.

And they still are.

There have been many dolls. Many beaches. Many bowls of popcorn. Much dancing in the kitchen.

More memories than one man deserves.

They’re grown now. But they’re still my little girls.

We still love beaches. And popcorn. And dancing in the kitchen. But I kind of miss the dolls.

Today I celebrate my Dad, who I have missed for thirty-five years. My wife’s Dad. And being a Dad.

Full of gratitude. And oh so proud. I am a blessed man.

This Post Has One Comment
  1. Not a day passes that I fail to think of my father. His love, support, guidance. Thankfully, he got to know his young grandson. I emulated my father’s example in raising my son, who is 20 now. A fine young man. I miss my Dad, but cherish his memory, and the legacy he provided. A legacy that will carry in through my son. Thanks for the inspiration.

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