when you showed up

I'm two days late to this lest I scare someone by being prompt about anything, and anyway, this man deserves a day all his own. THIS MAN, who showed up one afternoon when I was 14 with a broad smile and big bear hug and has existed in a heartspace exclusively his ever since. who, though he was already doing the work of raising three curious, complex daughters, welcomed a fourth – in all my highly opinionated and high maintenance teenagehood – as his own from that first embrace, capping a hole I didn't know was there until he filled it. who penned a song – as he had with his other kids on the day they were born – and surprised me with it at our wedding, self-consciousness thrown to the wind in the name of making me feel special, forever wanting me to know the reaches of his love.

my heart exploded for the 90th time that day, dad.

some people are given their parents at birth and others are gifted them in exactly the moment they're most needed, but one thing's for sure: it was always only ever going to be you. thank you for the honor of being your daughter, for the beautiful ride that has been our intertwined lives. happy (now egregiously belated) father's day.