I wrote this morning's 100 words about my dad and learned that 100 words just isn't enough to describe how much he means to me:
I've always been a Daddy's Girl. I remember following him around outside, talking a blue streak and copying whatever he did. Soon after my sister was born, my mom captured a photograph I'll always treasure. It shows a three-year-old me, sitting in a little red rocking chair placed in front of the green chair my father is sitting in. He's holding my baby sister and feeding her from a bottle, and I'm mimicking him, cradling my favorite baby doll and using a tiny white bottle to feed her. Even then he was my hero. Happy Father's Day, Daddy!