Today there will be many blogs with posts on this topic. I thought about not doing one just because of that. However, I have been blessed with a dad who loves my sister and me and our families with his whole heart and I wanted to honor him with a few sentences.
My dad married my mom when I was six years old. Yeah, read that again! :) My mom was a single mom with two kids. Daddy came into our lives when I was four years old and it didn't take long for him to be "daddy." While it can't be easy to marry a "package," Daddy did it with everything he had. His family accepted us without reservation and there was never a hint of us vs. them. I guess that's why blood has never meant family to me - family is who loves you, period.
I know my sister and I have caused my folks some heartache, worry and hair-pulling, but there was never EVER a time I didn't feel loved. Did Daddy get mad? You're darn right he did. Did he discipline us. Oh, yeah. But, he has always loved us. He may not always voice it 'cause he's a simple man, but it was there. And he never turned away from me when I needed a hug or a shoulder to cry on. His home is open to all of us for any reason with no questions asked.
Daddy has continued to be a strong force in his grandchildren's lives, and now his great grandchildren's. All of these kids know "DadDad" loves them and is always ready to make his world famous milkshakes for them. All they need to do is ask.
I thank God each day for my dad. He didn't have to be my dad, he could have just been my mom's husband. But, he didn't. So, Daddy, thanks. It's doesn't say enough, but I am grateful. I love you.