My Daddy

The man that I call my Daddy is not the man listed on my birth certificate.
He is not the man that I received any of my DNA from.
He is however, the man who has most influenced my life.
He is the man who, to this day, I am convinced can fix anything, given enough time.
He is also the man who has been with me through every major, and minor, life event.
He is the man who I called tell him that I had accepted Jesus late at night in Colorado at camp.
He is the man who has sat and beamed with pride when I graduated from high school, college and then graduate school.
He is the man who still brags about his daughter and says if only he had more like me
He is the man who I sought approval from when I met Jes, convinced he would be my future husband, after only a week of knowing him.
He is the man that Jes drove 2 hours, on bald tires, in a torrential downpour, to see to ask his permission to marry me.
He is the man who walked me down the aisle and sat biting his fingernails while I was in surgery giving birth to Caleb.
He was also the man who held my hand while seeing Caleb in the NICU.
He is the man that my son calls Poppaw and idolizes and will do ANYTHING for.
He is not the donator of DNA to my make up and he wasn't there the day I was born, but he is my Daddy and I love him.