Many complications have risen from me saying “my daddy” and having to specify… But I could never get behind calling the man who raised me and loved me and sacrificed for me – my stepdad. 

Yes, some say a step dad steps in but mine didn’t. He came running to my rescue, running to love me and to bring me flinstones vitamins and McDonald’s. He came running to stick around for me when things got rough. He came running to be my hero, before I ever recognized him as such. He came running when I was in trouble and my mother was ready to shut things down. He came running because I was his princess, to him – I’m too smart to make mistakes. In his eyes I’m too good of a girl to do anything wrong.:. And though his perception is one I have seldom lived up to, I now see how valuable he is. 

He loved me so well, nobody ever questioned whether he was my real dad. He loves me, to this day with everything he has and I never feel like my thank you is enough. I don’t feel like my “I love you daddy” adequately states what my soul really means when I say it.

Thank you for accepting me.

Thank you for choosing to love me.

Thank you for making sacrifices for me, those I know about and those I don’t. 

Thanks for being there whether I had a lizard that scared me or a little girl growing in my belly that did. 

Thank you; not for stepping in but for running to my rescue. 

Thank you for being my hero.

I love you daddy!