Saturday, February 5, 2011

My Dad

He's strong as an ox, not afraid of monsters under my bed, or the lightning when it strikes. He makes me smile when I'm sad, makes me count to ten before I say something I will regret, and holds my hand when I get a shot in the arm. You may think I'm crazy, mad or sad, but I love my dad.

Now that bit from my childhood is over, this is what I love about him now. My dad doesn't like to see me upset after a bout of chemotherapy, but he smiles when I tell him how my broken wrist is healing up. We share a good laugh when Glenn Beck or Rush Limbaugh tells a funny story, or remember something from our past. As the years have gone by, I can still say that I love my Dad. Get well Buster Freeman.

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