He was Daddy

This is about a man I knew. He left us this week, and I know I miss him. Just as I know it pales in comparison to those closest to him.

When I was young, still in high school, I dated his youngest daughter. She was his baby girl. He adored her absolutely, and even to a naive teenage boy, it was really clear he loved his daughter.

He was a man's man. His trade then was car repair and he was dang good at it. He loved racing, and went to the dirt track to enjoy the races often. He even got an old beat up car, fixed it up, and got out on that track once or twice himself. He had an absolutely gorgeous (and babied) classic car.

He treated me great, like a second dad. Helped me work on my car. Helped me get a better car (one that could be worked on), and helped me get it in better shape (as much as my budget allowed).

He had dirt bikes and go carts (one of which said girlfriend drove into a dumpster as I was following on a mini bike).

There was one moment though, that made him daddy then and forever. It was the time that he wanted to kill me. I didn't treat his baby girl right, and he was ready to make me pay for that infraction. It's pretty clear he didn't, but still. He was truly daddy. I didn't understand it then. That came years later.

My poor words seem so little to do justice for the heart this man had. But they are all I have now. Angels welcome him.