I was Daddy’s Little Girl. No doubt about it.
When I was little and he came home from work with a 5 o’clock shadow, he’d go straight to the bathroom and shave, because I wouldn’t give him a hello kiss if his face was scratchy.
I was about 12 when we built our camp in Grand Isle, and he and I built all the cabinets in the boat shed ourselves. Just the two of us.
When I went away to college, he was the one who cried.
On my wedding day, just before I walked down the aisle, he asked me again if I was “sure” this was the right guy. I said I was, because that guy was a lot like him.
We worked in the same industry for a few years, and he was so proud when we’d end up at meetings and conventions together.
When I named my second child after him, he was speechless.
He taught me to enjoy the everyday moments of life, not just the big events.
Even though he’s been gone from my sight for 16 years, I still try to make him proud.