As I go to my parents (dad and step mother) house this evening as I try to go once a week. Today is special though because today I am celebrating my birthday. My father and I talk about many memories together, even with all the hard times we swam through we still see the sunshine in the darkness.
One of my utmost very favourite memories is my father reading to my sisters and I; Winnie the Pooh. We had a large novel that he would read from, a few pages a night. When my father read you could see the sparkle in his eye and hear his voice change according to narration. He always made us feel as if we were Pooh himself. It was always the safest I felt all day, was gazing at my father while laying in bed listening to the stories of Pooh.
Thank you Dad, for giving me an imagination. Also for teaching me how to read a book with character.