Daddy's Girl

When I was very little, my father wasn't around much. Bread winner meant he was traveling often. He isn't one for words, where affection is concerned, but I always know he loves me. At bedtime, when I was young, we would kneel around that old familiar black frame bed. I would kiss his cheek and tell him I love him. With a promise to see him in the morning.

When I turned 8, my dad wrote me a letter. He probably doesn't remember. But I do. I always do. When moving to college, I lost that letter. It was a half page of red paper. And I dearly wish I knew its whereabouts. But I do remember what it said. Dad told me he loved me. That he was proud of me. He encouraged me to continue to learn and grow. He encouraged me to read his favorite book. (It's my favorite now too). He told remember Abinadi. Dad wrote some other things. It wasn't a very long letter. But my favorite part came at the end. Dad promised I would never be too old to give him goodnight kisses.

That was twelve years ago. I've grown up a lot since then. But I still give my dad goodnight kisses. I'm told that I'm a lot like him. I can only hope. I look to him for guidance. For comfort. For laughter. He is so much more than meets the eye. He is strict, but kind. Fair. Hard working. He is full of love. He shows me every day. It is in the small things. Like when he puts gas in my car, just because he knows it's low. And when we sit on the couch just talking. It's in the way he laughs at me when I can't shoot the stupid ducks. It is in the way he respects and loves my mother. And takes care of his girls. He has a good heart.

Today I spent the day with my parents. Just the three of us. I was reminded of how blessed I am. I'm so grateful for the dad I got. I love him more than words can say.