I am a daddy's girl. But I wasn't always. I was born into a home by a man that didn't know how to be a dad. I have since made amends with my father and I love him dearly. But my dad? Who is he? My mom had been a single mom and met my (step) dad when I was 7. I have adored this man from the beginning. He took on a role that didn't belong to him. He stepped in and became my daddy. He has taught me more about life than anyone. From changing the brakes in my car to making the perfect spaghetti sauce. He has been my shoulder to cry on and a listening ear. He is always there for me. Always. He has never judged me for my many, many messes I have got myself into. In fact, he helped me out of them. He has been there when I call him up at 7:00 a.m. because my car won't start and I need a ride to work. (And while I am at work he fixes my car.) He has been there late at night when I call him because I am crying and need someone to listen.
He took on a job that was not his own. He has never once made a statement declaring me any less than a flesh and blood daughter. He became a daddy to a little girl that so desperately needed one.