To my favorite boy in the world
My number one fan. My willing taste tester. My personal cheerleader. My instant happy pill. He takes me to the office every morning, even on weekends that I need to go to work. He sits with me when I'm having breakfast, and will pour my water for me. He makes the best silly faces and has the heartiest laugh.
I no longer remember how it is to have full-length conversation with him ever since that day in August, the year of 1998. I don't know when I'll be able to cheer him on during a game of golf. I miss pre-wheelchair dad, but I love him all the more now. There is something about having an unspoken language between you and a person dear to you. How I know what his gestures and facial expressions mean. Or how I know that Saturday nights are lacking when I'm not beside him on a pew in Church. Or how I know that something as simple as brushing his teeth makes me feel important.
These days, I like to ask him if he misses mom. And his eyes turn glassy. He never cries, but I know he misses her like crazy. But he says that she comes to him at night at his bedside and I know that she'll always reassure him.
I have the best parents in the world. Happy Father's Day, Daddy. I love you!