Many years ago I remember playing in my yard (if you know Daddy then you know he spends every moment outside if he isn't working) and we heard a loud, terrified scream. Acey was deep into the woods playing with Listi when he came upon a huge snake. I remember seeing my father sprint so fast that I later wrote "he looked like white lightning" in my journal. His face was ashen (very evident for his dark complexion) and even I felt scared, but was completely rooted to the spot. I watched by the old pecan tree as he ran into the heart of the woods to our treehouse he had built. After what felt like forever, I remember seeing his intense relief when he returned with both kids, shaken but fine. The snake was strangely dead (from what I can remember) but it gave us all a scare. My admiration from him grew exponentially with what was a very heroic act in my mind.
I think a lot of people didn't understand his ferocious love for his kids- instead thinking it was weird that I wasn't allowed to have boyfriends or attend sleepovers. There were many moments during my teenage years that I was so, so angry that I couldn't do what my friends could. But I look back on those simple things and I don't regret a minute of it now. All my resentment has washed away for gratitude for a father who really loved (and loves) me. A man who talked about working hard and there has never been a day that he hasn't. A man who is so skillful that I still call upon him regularly for his expertise. A man who I would run to in a heartbeat if an apocalypse ever happened. A man who was such a good father that I call him Daddy as a grown, married woman.
I love you Daddy! I hope you have the best of birthdays! See you soon!
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