As long as I can remember my father has always been a man with a heart of gold. When I think of my childhood, I'm reminded of a great song, "Daddy's Hands".
I remember Daddy´s hands, folded silently in prayer.
And reaching out to hold me, when I had a nightmare.
You could read quite a story, in the callouses and lines.
Years of work and worry had left their mark behind.
I remember Daddy´s hands, how they held my Mama tight,
And patted my back, for something done right.
There are things that I´ve forgotten, that I loved about the man,
But I´ll always remember the love in Daddy´s hands.
Daddy's hands were soft and kind when I was cryin´.
Daddy´s hands, were hard as steel when I´d done wrong.
Daddy´s hands, weren´t always gentle
But I´ve come to understand.
There was always love in Daddy´s hands.
I remember Daddy´s hands, working 'til they bled.
Sacrificed unselfishly, just to keep us all fed.
If I could do things over, I´d live my life again.
And never take for granted the love in Daddy´s hands.
Growing up I know I wasn't an angel to live with much less easy to parent but I do know that my dad could never love me more.
I remember a picture taken of us at my mom's uncle's house in the hill country when I was about 8 or 9. I have no idea where the picture is today but I can still picture it vividly in head. Even what I was wearing. We were sitting on the back deck. I was curled up in his arms, my head on his chest.
Now that my brother and I have babies of our own my daddy became Pepa or "P" as Ethan calls him. I could have never known what an asset my dad would be to my children. Next to their daddy, their pepa reigns supreme.
These past few months have been a real trying time for my dad. A time to see what he is made of. He is a man of great strength, wisdom and most of all love.
How fortunate we all are for having my father in our lives, but more than that, how lucky am I to call him my dad.
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