I know I'm a little behind.
And I know I wasn't home to say this in person...
But it doesn't mean I mean it any less.
I love you dad.
I love the way you make crazy eyes when taking pictures.
Or how you cook breakfast in your boxers.
How you taught me how to play sports...
Catch a fish, swing a golf club, draw teeth...
I will always remember our father-son dinners.
And how 9 out of 10 times we ended up at Chef Wongs.
Sesame Chicken, Shrimp and Cashews, and Seafood Delight.
I remember all the drives to and from Pittsburgh.
The tunnels I made wishes in.
I remember playing tennis at Brightbill as lightning lit up the sky.
And I remember how grateful you were whenever you'd come home from work at night and I'd have dinner for you.
I love how you fall asleep in front of the tv.
And even though you still till this day say you don't snore,
I love that too.
I love how you have the ability to befriend
anyone you come in contact with.
And are perfectly content either being the center of attention
or an intent listener.
Your stories are unparalleled,
In fact, I'd like to think that's something you passed onto me.
And even though I may not always see it
I secretly love whenever anyone tells me I remind them of you.
Happy father's day dad.
Top photo: Dan-O, me, and little sister circa 1993ish.
Bottom Photo: Mom and Dad in Chinatown, Philadelphi circa Mothers day 2010.