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The words have a certain melancholy ring to them.



My Dad has been gone over 20 years now.



Yet I feel his presence daily.



Every time I see someone treat somebody with fairness and kindness, I think of my Dad.



Every time I see someone working hard to provide for his family, I think of my Dad.



Every time I see someone teach his child to swim, I think of my Dad.



Every time I see someone reading a newspaper with a dog curled by his side, I think of my Dad.



Every time I see someone taking out the trash, I think of my Dad.



Every time I see someone doing the dishes after a hard day at work, I think of my Dad.



Every time I see someone pull a practical joke on somebody else, I think of my Dad.



Every time I see someone working long hours at his desk, I think of my Dad.



Every time I see someone proudly watching their child play sports or perform in a school or church production, I think of my Dad.



Every time I think of my Dad, I thank God for the privilege of having been his daughter.


Happy Birthday, Daddy. I love you.



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