I am fortunate, blessed beyond measure, to be the father of Amelia.
She is special in a million ways. She makes my heart sing, and I am inspired by her brave fight against cancer and its devastating after effects.
On Father’s Day, I am reminded of my own dad, Prince L. Smith Jr., who died shortly before Amelia was born. Around our house, we like to think that their two spirits met in transit.
My dad has been gone since 1996 and I still miss him every day. I still want to call him, hear his deep voice on the phone, and visit with him at the kitchen table over a cup of coffee. I miss having him physically in my corner, but I prefer to believe that my dad and mom are rooting for me from somewhere out there.
I guess that’s one of the things I always want Amelia to know: that I will always root for her happiness.
St. Mark of Missouri loved his daughters. When he lost one, his broken heart never mended.
Twain wrote, “It is a wise child that knows its own father, and an unusual one that unreservedly approves of him.”
Amelia is 13 and, to my amazement, still manages to approve of me. She’s forgiving that way.
Happy Father’s Day.