photo by tim
My Dad. The other half of my mother.
Together, they raised me, fed me and bathed me. They taught me about the best things in life, like jumping amongst the waves before lying in the sun and letting the salt water turn my skin crispy.
My dad taught me how to ride a bike, how to be brave in the ocean and how to care for things with gentle hands. He taught me these things by standing beside me, guiding me by his presence and leading by example.
After losing my eye to cancer as a child, it was always my dad who would tenderly help me care for it, wiping away early morning sleepy clusters, making sure that saline solution was always at hand and telling me I was pretty despite the odds.
He practices the art of truly listening and when he speaks, he does so with a calm and steady voice.
These days, I see him dote on his grand children in the same way he did with my brother and I. Walking slowly beside them, taking an active interest in their rapidly spinning worlds, teaching them, guiding them.
Thanks Dad. We love you.
for the love of Pa