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My Father is my hero, a man of honor and pride. He earned that badge through lots of work by being an awesome Dad. He loved us girls no matter what, no matter how tough it got. He had a job, not many had in 1972. He raised two girls all by himself, no mom around at all. Alone he took this task so great, to do an awesome job. The model Father all should have, to teach, to love, to honor. Our world would be a better place, a safer place to live. If every man could strive to be half the man he is.

My Father is my strength. Through his courage, I've found mine. He showed me way back then, when times were tough and spirits low the importance to stay strong. He taught me to hold on to what I feel is real and to fight for what is right. He taught me never to quit, no matter how tough it gets. At five and three just babies still when Mom walked out and left, feeling empty and alone he gave us strength to carry on. My Father found his strength and made us first to him. He picked us up to carry on, the best that he knew how. He found the courage and did it well and played the role of Dad and Mom.

My Father loved to spoil us, doing things we liked. My fondest memories now, were of all our fishing trips. A sport he's always loved and one that's rubbed off on us. He'd bait our hooks, remove our fish and bait the hook again. Those fish just seemed to love our bait and swallowed up our hook. He never seemed to mind and if he did he never said. He took those fishies off there hook, while we brought them in. He'd keep a tackle box close at hand, needle nose pliers up on top. He'd snicker as he'd hear us screech "Dad we got another one, and this one's on real good." He'd explain as he worked, "Now girls just watch that bobber, as it begins to dip, give a little tug and start to reel it in." "Those fish" he'd say "are big enough, they really don't need that worm." He'd laugh a little and then he'd say, "fishin's lot's of work." We'd laugh with him, not understanding what he meant. We say to him "it's really not dad, just put your pole out there and they'll jump right on."
Shortly after saying that, another one would bite, we'd bring it in, hand it to him, and it began again.

There was a time or two when Dad would have a date. Although they didn't seem to mind, we were never left behind. We played the role of chaperone's, never leaving them alone. We never felt like we were in the way, just always knew we belonged with Dad. He loved us, laughed with us and taught us right from wrong. He gave us hope and filled our hearts with memories a lifetime long. My Father taught us to live. He gave us hope when hope was gone. He is a Father, and a wonderful one at that.

Learn more about this author, Lynette Artin.
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