Daddy's Hands

I have written several times about my mom and how much I love her. But this post, is about someone else.


I remember when I was a little girl my mom would tell me that I would find a man to marry that was like my dad. I often thought to myself that it would not be possible, I couldnt see how anyone could compare. (Dave does but thats another story). You often hear girls reffering to their dad as their hero...mine was more than that. My dad always included me. I was never much into shopping when I was younger so when my sister and my mom would go, my dad would be right there to spend the day with me. And believe you me, I was a talker...yeah yeah I still am. But that poor man endured endless hours of questions and...observations of a 6 year old. I remember feeling very important when we ran errands together or when he let me "help" with his whatever he needed to do that day. I have never forgotten those afternoons, in so many ways they shaped who I have become as an adult. I have a picture of my dad and I when I was about 12 or 13. I was holding a piece of train track for him while he did something in our backyard layout. Everytime I see that picture I think of all of the time he spent showing me how to do things, how he insilled a confidence in me that had helped me immensly in my life.

My dad had always been my safe place. Nomatter what, my father always took care of me, he pushed me gently in the right direction but always let me make my own decisions. After my mom died I spent a lot of time with my dad while Dave was working at night. I dont know if I could have gotten through that time without him. I needed him more then than probably any other time in my life. And he was there. 

Thats the thing about my dad, he is always there.