Pop

I have a real special relationship with my father- one that most do not quite understand. My father and I are a lot alike, its strange how much I am my fathers daughter. Since my parents had me at the young age of 19, it seemed as though I was growing up with them- experiencing and discovering the same wonders of life. 

              

One thing I love most about my pop is that he can always tell when something is up, especially with me. Every time I am anxious and stubbornly denying that I am, he grabs my hands so see if my palms are sweaty. Many of my greatest memories and lessons learned are those which I have shared with him. He sent me off to college over a year ago with this advice, --

 "Remember the simple things, don't stress because 86% of things we worry about never happen, and last but not least, smile...it makes everything fall into place." 

Today is my Pop's birthday. My pop is quite a strange bird, always trying to please others. Every May, when it is my day to celebrate, he always stresses about what he can do to make it the best one yet. In turn, I always stress about what I can do for him that will, in the least, express gratitude. 

Untitled

I thank you for my anxiousness 

I thank you for my small bone structure 

I thank you for my ability to read people

and to speak my mind 

I thank you for my health

I thank you for my steadfastness

and desire to learn 

I am grateful for my nose

my big ears

my Flintstones tones

and yes, my buck teeth

I am thankful for you

and all you are