I was 17 when my father passed. Now I my 50. thou the grief has passed, There are times that I miss him and his ways. As I look back over the last 33 yrs I can see him, In much of what I am as well as what and why I do many of the things I do. From His Hardness & stubborn ways to the love in His ruff dry hands , the soft caring eyes that could send in a glance the massage that would keep me in line or let me know everything is fine. You placed in me the morels that I would need to get through this word with all its sorrows hate and scorn. In His quiet ways He showed me that there is a path. When I am lost and everything is crashing down Its His stubbornness His strength His morels that gets me threw.
Thank you Dad for all you gave me.
Thank you God for my father.
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