That handsome guy on the left is my dad.  I’m probably three.  And we’re shucking peas.  I sure do love that father of mine.  I love his sense of humor.  I love his quiet strength and his intense loyalty.  I love the way he loves my mom.  I love the way he loves his children.  I love that he has overcome huge obstacles and not let himself become bitter.  I love that he’s missing his middle finger, which makes him a total badass in my opinion.  I love that when I look in the mirror, I see parts of him.  I have his teeth.  I have his hands.  We share a love of history and travel.

Before Mike entered my life, my dad was my main man.  When Mike did become a part of my life, it was so very important to me that my dad not only approved of Mike, but that they became friends as well.  Moments before we walked down the aisle on my wedding day, while my father and I waited for our cue to walk in the foyer of the church, he held me close and with tears in his eyes told me how proud he was of me and how deeply he loved me.  And he told me he loved Mike and was confident he was leaving me in the best hands.  It is one of my most treasured moments.

And I treasure you, Dad!  I love you to the moon and back.  I’ll always be your Magoo.

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