Father's Day

My first bouquet of flowers wasn't from a teenage lovestruck beau or Jack for that matter. It was from my Dad many, many years ago on the day that I was born. He brought in a giant bouquet of pale pink roses for his little girl and to this day I still get roses from him on my birthday. Only my Dad can gift me roses (I'm a bit territorial with my Dad that way). The rose is the birth flower for the month of June and pale pink roses symbolize gentility, femininity, elegance, refinement, admiration and happiness. He set the tone for all the things I wanted to live up to in life from the minute I opened my eyes to the world.

It's that kind of thoughtfulness and gentleness that makes my Dad a wonderful father. I always...always.... get inspired to be a better person, to take better care of myself, to reach my potential when I am around my Dad. He has that go get em attitude that is infectious to be around and he sets the bar high for himself and for those around him. He still wants to hold my hand despite the fact that his girls are all grown up. He loves to belt out opera tunes in the kitchen and still manages to beat his kids at backgammon and tennis. He is a man of many gifts and always gives everything he tries his best shot.

When I was little he seemed like a great big cuddly giant...which he still is. But he is also a man with a giant heart and intellect; a man of character who exudes honesty, integrity and kindness. He is my everyday hero and the best father a girl could ask for.

I love you Dad and happy father's day!