This is time of year when my heart gets heavy with sadness, but this year was different. The days seemed to pass without me paying attention to the time.
On the 10th of April in 1918 was born the greatest man I ever knew. The name I knew him by was Papa. For many days I thought he was perfect and should be able to walk on water. The hardest day of my life growing up was when I realized he too made mistakes. He was once my everything. He was my mother and father. He was the one I went to when the frogs of my dreams frightened me. He was the one I clung to when I was hurt or sick. He gave up so much for me to merely exist.
He has been gone nearly 8 years and I still think of him daily. I miss the sound of his voice. I miss the confidence I had that everything would be okay just because he would never allow the bad to touch me. My life is blessed because he was such an important part of who I am and how I became me. I miss you Papa.