Writing Blind

Today, June 17, is Father's Day. Like Mother's Day it is a holiday that can be bitter-sweet. A father possesses some many roles in our lives, that the colliding emotions around those men, can be as tempestuous as in any drama or tragedy.
I, was fortunate enough to have had a father, who formed in my heart and mind, the basis for every heroic figure in my life.
My father was brilliant and strong. He was funny, forgiving, patient and powerful. He died when I was a teenager and has been out of my life for years longer than he was in it, but it is the influence of that man, that colors every perception of men that I have.
The man that is the father of my children is just like my father: Strong, brilliant, funny, powerful,patient. He colors a world for me, that is without light or color. My husband and my father do not look alike. They have a different kind of brilliance and passion. They fulfill different roles in my life, but I recognized the man I wanted to be with forever, because I loved my father first. I let myself be loved again after his tragic death, because my father loved me, and I knew I could trust the love of a man like he had been.
My husband, Erik, is more than just a good man, a good father, or a good husband. He is the kind of man I hope my sons will become. He is the man I hope my future daughters-in-law search out when finding true love. He is the most powerful force in the formation of the men my grandchildren, and great grandchildren will be.
Thank heavens, because he is the perfect man for the job.