To my Dad.
I wouldn’t change a thing about my childhood, and that’s a pretty lucky place to be.
Not because my childhood was all rainbow and sunshine and lollypops. Those childhoods don’t exist, nor should they.
There were hard bits. Days I had to work really hard for.
Some days there was yelling.
There were disappointments and other childhood hurts (side note – I’m a middle child).
At the end of the day I always knew, right down to my very bones, that I was deeply loved.
I always knew that you’d walk through a river of glass in bare feet to keep my sisters and I safe.
Your lap was always big enough for three daughters, even if it got a bit squishy there by the end.
Days on the boat with you. Weekend trips to early hockey games – you, cranking the car’s foot heater to warm me up before I had to get out.
Now, as a grown up, I swear at my tools, and I’m like you.
I hug my children SO hard they squeak, and I’m like you.
I think that silicone and a zip tie can fix anything, and I’m like you.
I am a problem solver, and I’m like you.
I give my children space to solve their own problems, and I’m like you.
I would walk through a river of glass in my bare feet to keep my children safe, and I’m like you.
Well done Dad, we’re awesome.
Love your favourite middle child