My Dad . . . .
My dad could fly a jet . . . and cradle a baby in his arms,
My dad liked riding a motorcycle . . . and reading me bedtime stories,
My dad could cast a fishing line . . . and teach me how to tie my shoes,
My dad could navigate by the stars . . . and help me catch fireflies,
My dad could identify trees, birds, and rocks . . . and liked to take me on walks through the woods,
My dad attended church . . . and liked lazy days at the beach,
My dad expected the best of us . . . but was never afraid to show us his love.
My dad could fly a jet . . . and cradle a baby in his arms,
My dad liked riding a motorcycle . . . and reading me bedtime stories,
My dad could cast a fishing line . . . and teach me how to tie my shoes,
My dad could navigate by the stars . . . and help me catch fireflies,
My dad could identify trees, birds, and rocks . . . and liked to take me on walks through the woods,
My dad attended church . . . and liked lazy days at the beach,
My dad expected the best of us . . . but was never afraid to show us his love.
Miss you Dad! I loved those days at the beach with you. (photo is either Hampton Beach, NH or Jones Beach, Long Island, NY)
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