My Real Life Guitar Hero

I just got home from an amazing trip, and I have every intention to post about it soon.  But today, I want to write about something even more amazing.  Or, rather, someone.  My dad, to be specific.  That’s right.  My dad is amazing.  The best, in fact.


When I was little, my dad and I used to sit on our front porch swing in the evenings.  He would play guitar, and I would sing, and I thought that life just couldn’t get any better.  I still do.  I love the life I’ve built for myself, and being a grown-up is great (I can drink wine and vote and travel and stuff!), but sometimes I’d like nothing more in this world than to be back on that porch watching lightning bugs and making music with my dad.


He taught me the value of a good song, and the joy of entertaining others by having the courage to share it.  His spirit is contagious.  He loves karaoke, he loves motorcycles, he loves a good time, he loves my mom, and he loves life.  And thanks to him, so do I.  He never meets a stranger.  He never turns down an opportunity to have fun.  He never focuses too long on the things that make life harder.  He drinks in every minute of every day like it’s the last drink he’ll ever have.  And he inspires me to do the same.


I’m proud to be his daughter.  I’m grateful he’s my dad.

Thank you for everything, Dad.  Love you more.


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