He’s a good dad. This man of mine. He’s a good dad.
We are blessed.
You hear a lot from me, life from my perspective. But this life I write about happens largely because this man is a good man. The best.
I don’t do what I do single handedly. Not even close.
I do it with him.
He loves us, protects us, defends us. He fights for our hearts. He makes sure I rest. He makes sure I don’t implode. He is my friend. He knows me. He sees me and he understands.
He fathers well. He is our biggest fan.
And this boy. Well, he adores him. From the moment he laid eyes in him, he was a goner. Smitten.
You heard a lot from me this week, but the reason I could even speak, was this man.
This one who loves us all.
Happy Father’s Day, John.
You are my hero.