This is one of my favorite photos of Daddy and me. Me all dressed in pink with a bow in my hair and Daddy with his glasses and watch, things neither one of us went without.
Daddy holding me haphazardly in front of the camera, no doubt wanting the photographer to capture his precious little girl. I love this photo because I think it was supposed to be of just me, and, instead, it's of the two of us.
The way his strong hands support my fluffy frame and his eyes look just a tiny bit fearful as he opens his mouth in a half smirk to speak combined with the way I sit content in his arms, this is what I love most about the picture--the honesty of it all. The moment of fear and love and hope that wasn't supposed to be noticed but was.
I love the knowledge that he might not have known what he was doing raising a little girl into a lady, but he gave it his all, and he did his best. All things considered, I'd say he did a remarkable job, and still does--every day.
Thanks, Dad, for everything.
I love you,
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