because he was

This morning, like so many mornings now, I woke up thinking about my dad.  Happy Father’s Day, by the way.  I still miss him.  Maybe even more than I did months ago, which is strange because I thought it would get easier.  This morning I kind of smiled when I thought about how I viewed him as I was growing up.  When I was little, I thought he was the greatest man alive.  He was tall and strong with a deep rich reading voice.  His stride when we walked together was twice my height.  When I got older, teenage years, I thought he was great because he knew everything about everything.  He was incredibly smart.  My brother and sisters and I know way more about the Japanese Maple and other various trees than we will ever be able to use.  And as an adult I learned about his character.  His high standards and ethics.  I learned about the sacrifices he made for his family.  The loyalty to his friends.  His generosity toward everyone he knew.

Maybe, maybe… I thought he was the greatest man alive because he was.   And maybe there’s nothing wrong with a girl thinking that.

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