This picture was taken in September of 1980. I was 15 months old, and a Daddy's girl. 32 years later, nothing has changed, well except the fact I no longer sit on Dad's knee on a regular basis. I have always been a bit of a Daddy's girl. I think we all were really. My dad coming from a family of 10 children, where there was an equal split between boys and girls, was blessed in fatherhood with three very lovely, well-mannered, do as we were told, soft-spoken girls. (If anyone believes everything in that last statement you've clearly never been around my sisters and I, especially on a day after Christmas shopping trip). I have amazing memories of being with my dad. I used to love watching him work in the garage building projects. He used to give me a scrap piece of wood to practice hammering or sanding. I know how to drive a nail, the difference between a flat head and Phillips head screwdriver, and how to check the air in my tires all because of my dad. Dad spent many years coaching me on and off the field, in sports and in life. As much sawdust and dirt I remember being in my memories with Dad, there are also the times I remember as a little girl him braiding my hair, or laying in my bed telling me bedtime stories he would make up, or singing me songs until I fell asleep. I loved listening to him, and I honestly still do. We haven't always agreed, and frankly the older we both get, the more things in life we seem to have very differing opinions on, but we can always have a conversation. I treasure those times. I know how lucky I am at 33 to still have both of my parents, and to still have them together, when so many of my friends have already lost a parent or have to split time between the two. I can't begin to express all the gratitude and respect I have for my dad, I love him dearly, and will forever be a Daddy's girl.
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