He was not a perfect husband. He was not a perfect father. He was not a perfect man. Probably, not a perfect friend. He was a human husband. He was a human father. He was a human man. He was a human friend. I have no doubt to these observations his eyes would tear and he would agree. Between perfection and human there was gentleness and a gentle man. Between perfection and human there was compassion and loyalty. Between perfection and human there was joy and generosity. Between perfection and human there was simply him.

Between perfection and human, he taught me so much on how to live, love, and forgive. Between perfection and human, he taught me how to die. I have his hands, body build, feet, and sometimes in the mirror, I think he is looking back. It’s almost 8pm Daddy, the time you would always call. I’m trying to “stay sweet” as I struggle between perfection and human. Happy birthday Daddy….you are missed.