An old tin camping cup filled with memories of hot chocolate and laughter help define the man I call my father. His unwavering integrity set the standard by which I strive to lead my life. His love for a good story, sparked my imagination from my childhood to now.
He loved his family enough to want to be with them to the bitter end, even though the end came before he was ready.
My father gave me riches beyond measure because he loved me and my siblings.
I miss him. Sometimes, when my heart is quiet and still I can feel him hanging around doing his fatherly thing. Keeping things good.
That’s what dad’s do.