I really don't need a holiday to remember my dad. There isn't a day that goes by, that his memory doesn't find its way into my thoughts...and I'm so happy for the memories.
For as far back as I could recall, he's always been my favorite person, and I, his. This was always apparent when you observed the instant glow on our faces when we were together. I didn't know it then, but in retrospect, he was my best friend. Sometimes I wish I would have realized it sooner, but I hope that he knew. I think he did. From the time I could talk, to the last time I spoke to him, I've always told him just what was on my mind. I can't imagine what a 4 year old could say for hours on end, but he always listened with an attentive ear and a welcoming smile.
Even when he scolded me, it was done with love, patience and understanding. I was never fearful of getting yelled at, or of getting in any type of major trouble with him. Nevertheless, I never wanted to disappoint him.