Some little girls dream of marrying a man like their father. I always have. He's dad. He fixes what's broken, literally and figuratively. He provided for, he took care of. He's dad, and mom knows. She's been married to him for 31 years. She knows I look for a small piece of dad in every man I meet. Haven't found him in anyone.
"They threw away the recipe for a man like your dad," she said to me.
It's true. And unfortunate. But when do you stop looking?