I remember when I was young. Daddy was the only man in my life. HE was the only one I'd grow up to always love and marry. HE filled my world with kisses and hugs. His laughter (at his own jokes) was the best sound in my small world. I was 4. This is when most of my real memories began.
I remember his 'room'...filled with fun things that little girls were not supposed to touch. Microphones that hooked up to magical electric boards of lights that whirred and hummed. He was a "HAM" operator. I only remember how fun the name HAM was...and that it made me laugh that Daddy would talk into a HAM microphone. It didn't look like any HAM I'd ever seen. He told me once that he sent messages out on the "WIRE". That he could send messages to soldiers in other countries fighting for our freedom. My Daddy was a hero in my eyes. I knew it. Because I was told as a little girl, that soldiers made sure we were "free"...that they made it possible for us to run and play in our back yard. So, if Daddy could send them messages on his magic microphone...then he must be a Hero too. Until the day he died...in his room of magical things...he was always that Hero to me.
I wish I could still own the house I grew up in. I wish it were still mine. But the memories are so vivid...even after all these years. I know now, my Father was a great man. He did make sure that messages got sent to soldiers and units overseas. He was a Hero. He was my Father...my Daddy.
Here is to all those Fathers that we all love and remember. The Hero's of little girls. The one and only man we will ever truly love. I miss you, Daddy.