This morning I woke up feeling homesick for my Dad. So many times I’ve reached for my cell phone to call him and then I remember … they don’t have cell phones in heaven.
When I was a little girl, he was ten feet tall. He had all the answers to all my questions and he could fix anything that broke. In this child's eyes, he was the smartest man in the world and there wasn’t anything he couldn’t do.
If you got a boo-boo, he had you soak it in Epsom Salts and it got better. If it was a cut, he painted it with "Daddy's red paint" (Mercurochrome), added a Band-Aid, a kiss and a hug, and the cut got better, too.
A quiet man, he hardly ever raised his voice. With six children, an assortment of foster kids over the years, plus our friends hanging out, you would think he would blow once in a while, but he never did. He kept his cool.
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