Happy birthday Dad! In the past few months, wonderful people have called me a hero. I don't see it that way, but perhaps I just learned from the best. In emulating a hero, perhaps I have begun to resemble one. I didn't run into burning buildings to save lives for a living. I didn't carry others to safety. I just watched and learned that life is precious and worth fighting for from someone who lived that every day.
Perhaps being the daughter of a firefighter is what gives me courage in the face of fear. Perhaps I gained my strength from watching him. I know I got my work ethic and determination from him (just as him the mullygrubs story sometime). I learned the power of thinking positive from him. And I certainly learned the importance of family and faith.
So thanks, Pop for always living an example. Thank you for just being there, and letting me know how loved I am. You being you made me who I am. Hope you didn't get your keyboard too wet reading the post. You're the best, and I am blessed.
On another note, one week and a wake up until my last treatment! But who's counting?