One of the very few pictures I have of Daddy. I miss him so much. Sometimes I sit and wonder what life would be like if he were still alive. I wonder what our conversations would be about. I wonder how much less my heart would hurt if I could just give him a hug, I wonder if I would have the same comfort from his healing hands when he would put his hand on my forehead when I had a migraine, I wonder what his voice would sound like because it's been so long since I've heard it that I don't even remember what it sounds like. But I remember his contagious laugh, I remember his sparkling smile, I remember his joyful play, I remember him dancing to "achy breaky heart", I remember him running down the sidelines of the soccer field as I charged forward to make a goal, I remember the sound of his chain and keys rattling while he ran. I remember him letting me French braid his long beautiful hair. I remember wanting nothing more than to hear him say "Baby, I'm proud of you!" I never heard those words because he was taken from me so tragically, but I can only hope that I have become someone my father could be proud of.
However, I have been blessed with a Dad that had taken me in as his own. I have been blessed to hear his voice utter the words, "I'm so proud of you." I have a Dad that has been there for me through thick and thin. I have a Dad that loves me more than I could ever imagine. God took my father but gave me a Dad to take his place 💜