The Safe Place To Fall

This is My Safe Place To Fall

And today is his birthday.


I don't know about you, but my dad and I share a special kind of relationship.  I get to rag on him for how old he is or how many broken noses he's sustained from line drives to his face or that he tells the same stories about having walked up Grove Ridge Hill to go to school every morning.....and he gets to take it.

Yes, my dad is my Safe Place to Fall.


Like when I was in fourth grade and came home with a D in English because I had only read 3 of the 10 required readings for the year and done maybe 30 SRA's instead of 100.  And instead of the 40 hour lecture and month long grounding I deserved, he gave me a hug.

Or like when I wrecked the college van during Spring Break in Panama City and the grumpy overwhelmed police officer gave me a reckless driving ticket and my dad was only  more concerned about me and that  I was okay than the outrageous cost of the ticket.

Dad and I also share a love/hate relationship with college basketball.  We love the Wildcats.  We hate Duke.

I love my dad.  And I'm so thankful for him.

So Happy Happy Birthday, Daddy!  I sure do love you!


PS.   I would also like to extend a very very Happy Birthday to the most amazing, pretty, dopey, brilliant, goofball of a nephew this world has laid eyes on.  Today he is 15.  Which makes me feel ridiculously old.  And sad.  Because basically this kid is like my practice first born.  I'm very proud of you, kid!  I love seeing who you've become.