Thanks, Dad.

For nothing in particular, but everything.

For teaching me how to throw that softball, cast that line, mow in perfectly straight rows.

For having the patience to show me the details of a perfectly lighted Christmas tree, a delicately pruned tree, and a meticulously organized garage. (I’m still working on that one…)

For giving me an appreciation of the oldies, all things nature, and the ability to talk to everyone I meet.

For always swooping in to fix the flat, the fence, the machine, or the broken heart.

For every 9:30 am phone call on Sunday mornings, Bills game afternoon, or ride down the thruway to the State Fair.

For packing and moving me from place to place, new life to new life, new adventure to new adventure.

For randomly showing up to mow my lawn when I am overwhelmed, demand a spontaneous ice cream trip (which always makes life better), or for sitting on the tailgate for a much needed chat.

And most of all, for understanding that women are powerful and strong, and raising daughters that have the courage to do anything they want and be anyone they want.

Daddy, I love you forever and I’ll always be your Bucket of Love. 

(and because why not, this video I made for my Dad to play at our wedding while we danced to “You Can Call me Al,” a gorgeous version by Eddie Berman)

Happy Father’s Day to all the dads, but especially to mine.