Father's Daugher
My dad had open heart surgery on March 12. Since then it's been a waiting game to see how his body will heal. The first couple days were torture for him: every breath in or out held pain, it was difficult to walk, and worst of all, it was excruciating for him to laugh. He is a man that was born to laugh. I remember being a little girl and waiting for the moment that my dad would walk through the front door at the end of his work day. We never knew what kind of day he'd had at his law office until we all sat down for dinner and we'd hear him tell my mom stories about the cases he worked on. But for the first 20-30 minutes of being home, he was pure joy. He would walk through the front door, briefcase in hand, black suit coat hung over his arm, and he would sing loudly: I'm home! I'm home! We're going to have some fun. We're going to have a good time. Fun! Fun! Fun! Every time, same words, same tune. This was the cue for my siblings and me to run ...