He was my dad. Technically my step-dad but he never made me feel like a step-child. He was my dad. He was the man that taught me and my sisters to do the jitter-bug, ride horses, drive a stick shift and of course pour the perfect highball. He got the tough years raising three daughters and he was all in and present. He was the man that had to meet all of our dates (that never met his standards) with the shotgun always by the front door. The man that walked each of us down the aisle on our wedding day. The man that spent hours rebuilding a wooden highchair Mom found at a “junk store” for my daughter. I have it to this day and it is cherished. He was Papa to my babies. He could soothe my fussy daughter when nobody else could and taught her to pound on her highchair tray when food wasn’t coming quite fast enough. He would spend hours in the shop entertaining my little boy building rubber band guns and cars then have a shootout or race. He was and is my son’s idol. Momma picked a good one when she picked him. He will be missed. I love you Daddy. Laura Jean
