My dad was a hero.
He wasn't a saint.
He was human.
And he owned his humanness like a god.
His mistakes weren't hidden away.
No,
He shared them with me.
A lesson so hopefully I didn't,
Have to learn it too.

My dad was made for greatness.
He could have been or done anything.
And he chose to raise me.
Teach me,
Love me.
Become a mother and a father all at once.
Dimmed his shine,
To help me find mine.

My dad was a blessing.
Not perfect or without fault.
But always able to admit his mistakes.
Followed by an apology.

My dad is now my angel.
The voice in my head I hear,
When I want to quit.
When I want the world to stop,
Turning like nothing has changed.

He's the flash in my vision,
When I feel utterly alone.
Lost without a destination or home.
Reminding me I am my own home.

He's the calm that shows up,
When I'm drowning in panic.
Hunched over unable to move.
Suffocating in anxiety.
Reminding me,
It's okay...breath.

My dad is gone.
But the lessons he taught me live on.
The calm he gave me,
Still remains.
And some days I think,
He still comes back sometimes.
In those bad moments.
Those drowning, suffocating moments.
To put a hand on my shoulder and say,
"I've got you.  You've got this"