He was a tower of will, but weak to temptation. He was bright and witty, but not smart enough sometimes. He was fearless and friendly, but too careless for comfort. He was thoughtful, when he thought things through, but often impulsive. He was like most of us, only different.
I watched her heart break during some dark times, and I watched her heart bloom when my dad would stand in the middle of the kitchen and proclaim in a very official tone to me, “I have something to say.” Our eyes turned to him. “I am in love with your mother. And there is nothing you can do about it.” And 19-year old me, the audience of one, would roll my eyes, and mom would giggle and keep chopping onions.