Sometimes I wonder if I can actually love someone more than I love my father. I've always been his girl. It's the way he looks at me with total adoration. The way I know he'd do anything for me. The way he has done everything for me. He's kind and smart and handy and really knows how to make his eldest child laugh. Hearing his voice over the phone makes any day brighter and actually being home to see him makes the 273 mile drive worth it. What a provider. What a hero. What a human being.
I watch movies with dad and daughter scenes and feel sappy. I see dads and daughters hug when I'm away and want nothing more than that from my own.
Sure, he's lost patience through the years. Yes, sometimes he yells at me for stupid things like tattoos and shirts that are too worn out. And I'll admit that I don't think he "gets" me like I'd like him to, but he's my dad and my love has surpassed the obligation. I don't think I could ever love another human being more. My wrist declares I should, but I'm not sure if I even want to try.
I've been revealing fears to my friends lately. Greatest fear other than watching the house he built burn down? Losing him. Thinking about it makes my eyes water up. Oh goodness, there I go -- sobbing in public again.