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04 June 2011 @ 09:07 pm
So I've decided to move on from Star_Crush.

It's been nice being here, but I needed a fresh start. Since cloudwoven asked me to be a part of her new LJ project ljremix I decided a new home was in order. We would LOVE for you to join.

Whether you decide to be a part of the project or not, I would love for you to follow me to my new home: skyspun <-- friend me so I can friend you back! A lot of it is going to be friends only, because it's going to be a bit more personal than my blog posts at skyspun.org

Hope to see you there. 
22 May 2011 @ 11:37 pm

Originally published at Skyspun.org. You can comment here or there.

I feel like I’ve been neglecting this place, and I don’t mean to. Life has just been “getting in the way” as they say. But lately it seems as though it’s only because I’ve been focusing my attention more on my photography “business”. It seems to becoming more and more real as the days go on, and I have to say… I’m super excited.

So, I decided to take a break from the 30 Days of Truth project to share with you my first paid photography gig. Someone I went to school with contacted me on Facebook recently and asked me to do her and her fiance’s engagement photos. So, today I packed up my gear and headed over to Savin Rock in West Haven and did what I love to do most: capture the moment.

Here are some of my favorites from the day… You can check the entire shoot over here. I can’t tell you how excited I am to hear what they think of them. And when they handed me a check for doing something that I would kill to do on an every day basis… It just. Hit me. This is really something people want me to do. This is something I could realistically do for a living – at least part time.

And it made me so, so happy.


DSC_7575 DSC_7565


02 May 2011 @ 07:09 pm

Originally published at Skyspun.org. You can comment here or there.

Day 19 > What are your views on religion?

Ho hum. This kind of goes right up there with my last post on gay marriage. I feel like these things have been talked about to death, but I suppose I never really touched on my opinions about religion here before… mostly because I don’t like to cause waves, and these topics usually bring out the ugly in people.

When I was younger, I was brought up Christian. My mother took my brother and I to church every Sunday, where I have vivid memories of sitting in itchy clothes on uncomfortable benches, quietly complaining to my mother that I was hungry and bored while listening to the echoing of the sermon going on throughout the building. She had us both in CCD classes every week until I was in fifth grade. At that point she gave us the choice: We could continue to go or not, it was completely up to us.

Needless to say, as kids, we were more than happy to give up the extra learning activities.

I never really followed religion much. I’ve read the children’s versions of the bible. I have a general idea of the whole thing. But to be honest, I think I follow more of a free-spirit than someone in common religion. There was a point in my life where I likened myself more to the Wiccan religion than anything. But now, I don’t really like to categorize myself as anything.

Honestly, because it seems like the moment you put a label on what you believe in, you’re judged – no matter how open minded people claim they are. Atheism, Christianity, Buddhism , Wiccan… It doesn’t really matter what you call it. As soon as you call it something, people look at you a certain way.

And so, I tell you I’m open-minded. I don’t fully deny or accept one religion as being true and right. I’m sure there is some greater power out there. Whether it’s God or something else, I have no idea. I’m not entirely sure if I believe in the traditional idea of Heaven or Hell. I believe that there is such a thing in reincarnation, and I think that something does happen to us once we die. What that is, I couldn’t tell you.

Remind me to let you know when the time comes, ok?

29 April 2011 @ 12:57 pm

Originally published at Skyspun.org. You can comment here or there.

Day 18 > Your views on gay marriage.

Ok, honestly? I’m skipping this one entirely, because to me there is nothing to say about this. It’s been overdone so much, and to me there isn’t even a reason to go into it. There is nothing to say about it, because you may as well be asking me what my views on marriage are in general. Gay marriage is no different than traditional marriage.

End of story.

28 April 2011 @ 03:07 pm

Originally published at Skyspun.org. You can comment here or there.

Day 17 > A book you’ve read that has changed your views on something.

I’ve been sitting here all day, coming back to this draft and trying to mentally catalog all the books I’ve read in my life, and what impact they’ve had on me.

Truth is, I’ve read so many freaking books growing up that I can’t even begin to describe one single book that has changed my views. So, I’ll give you a list of the top books that have always been my favorites, and why:

- White Oleander by Janet Fitch – This book was like poetry to me. It was probably one of the first “grown up” books I had read growing up. I was always so infatuated with the Young Adult genre that it was rare that I had strayed to something a little more serious. But this book just enveloped me with its story.

- The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky – I had wanted to read this book forever, but actually only got around to reading it a year or so ago. I wish I had read it when I was a teenager, because I know it would have made a difference in my life. It was just so… raw. Being able to look into someone’s life, someone who didn’t really have anything extraordinary going on, and really get sucked into how everyone has their crosses to bear. Everyone has their issues to get through. This was an eye-opener to me – even as an adult – to see that even the most ordinary person is going through something.

- Echo by Francesca Lia Block – Anything by F.L.B. in my eyes was moving. Her writing sweeps you up into this world of absolutely beauty and pain and tragedy… And it really made me view things in an entirely different light. Her books are just like magic.

26 April 2011 @ 03:08 pm

Originally published at Skyspun.org. You can comment here or there.

Day 16 > Something or someone you definitely could live without.

I’m going to go whiny for a bit and talk about my asthma. Because it has become overly apparent to me recently how much I seriously could live without this damn disease.

I was diagnosed with asthma when I was two-years old. There were a lot of close calls when I was little, and many ER visits and overnight stays in the hospital. But as I grew older, it got a little better. I learned to deal with it and know my limitations.

But the downside to “learning to deal” with a deadly disease is the fact that you tend to under-react when things happen. This is what happened last Tuesday.

I had been having a bit of a flare up and had been taking my rescue inhaler a little more than I should have… But I just chalked it up to the cold I was still getting over and the changing of the weather. Tuesday I went to work and realized that I couldn’t do a damn thing without wheezing and feeling short of breath. I left work, went home and went to bed.

I should have gone to the ER that night. But I didn’t. I waited until Wednesday morning when my mother pretty much told me she was taking me to the ER because I could barely speak. From 8am until 4pm I was stuck in the ER while they tried to get air in my lungs.

Annnnd I ended up staying there for four days, hooked up to monitors and stuck with needles pumping meds into my oxygen-deprived body. It was not fun. I had not been hospitalized in about 10 years. I was scolded by every nurse, doctor, specialist and family member for my lack of urgency when I was having trouble breathing.

And so, it was a wake-up call that I need to pay more attention to my symptoms. Thankfully I am getting better, and I’m home now…

But god damnit I hate asthma.

19 April 2011 @ 10:44 am

Originally published at Skyspun.org. You can comment here or there.

Day 15 > Something or someone you couldn’t live without, because you tried living without it.

There are many people that I couldn’t possibly live without… My family, my friends, my husband… Or my pets, really. I haven’t tried living without any of them, but I know for a fact that I just couldn’t bear to be without any of them…

But that’s a given, really. I suppose the one thing that I truly can’t live without because I did indeed try to give it up would be web design/blogging.

I got into it when I was in my mid-teens. Back when Geocities and Freeweb were big (remember those?)… I remember being “hosted” at a handful of domains, but really wanted something of my own. For my 18th birthday, my father bought me Gracewithin.org. I was in love. That domain was my home for years and years. I ended up giving it up after my relationship ended with my ex-fiance.

I decided to go “incognito” for a while. Being hosted under my friend’s sites under an alias. After a while I decided that I just wasn’t feeling it anymore and just gave up blogging all together. I tried writing in a paper journal, but for some reason it just wasn’t the same. Even though I didn’t get the feedback I used to get at Gracewithin, I still craved the knowledge that someone was reading. It was encouraging to me, to know that people felt the same way I did, or were going through similar situations.

And so went the cycle of buying a domain, blogging for a bit and then closing it down. My life has gotten far more rich than it used to be, and so I find less and less inspiration and motivation to blog… But for some reason I can’t ever seem to let go entirely. The web design fire inside me has died – and has been replaced with a desire to photograph things instead – but the need to write and share myself with others will always be there.

Which is why Skyspun is still around.

18 April 2011 @ 11:46 am

Originally published at Skyspun.org. You can comment here or there.

Day 14 > A hero that has let you down. (write a letter)

Wow… To be honest, I didn’t think there would ever be a question that I didn’t have an answer to. But last night I decided to check out the next day in this project, and I saw this was the next question. I sat there for a good five minutes, staring at the question and racking my brain for someone to write about.

And I can honestly say that I’ve come up empty handed.

I’m mentally cataloging all the people I had considered heroes while growing up: My father, New Kids on the Block, Hanson, Gerard Way, Shiri Appleby, Sarah Michelle Gellar… But have any of them let me down? No. Not that I can ever recall.

Maybe that means I’ve picked awesome people to look up to. Or maybe it just means I have low standards. Either way, I’m at a loss for words on this one… So I guess I’ll be moving on.

05 April 2011 @ 08:47 pm

Originally published at Skyspun.org. You can comment here or there.

Day 13 > A band or artist that has gotten you through some tough ass days. (write a letter.)

I can remember the first time I ever heard them. I was home sick from school one day, and happened to be watching MTV. (you know, back when they actually played music videos?) I didn’t catch the band name or the name of the song as it started, but I remember being mesmerized by the dark humor and personality that each of the band members had. The lead singer just… grabbed me. The video was hilariously witty, and I immediately was hooked. I needed to know who these guys were. I needed to know all about them.

It was at that moment that I fell in love with My Chemical Romance.

Their music just… speaks to me in a way that makes me want to blast their music until my ears bleed. Their lyrics give me goosebumps. Their interviews make me smile. And their concerts literally bring me to tears. I remember the last time I saw them, as I stood amidst the mosh pits, merely feet away from Gerard Way as he belted out “Famous Last Words”… I can’t remember another moment where I felt so at peace and filled with happiness. I was standing there, staring up at him in awe, tears streaming down my face because my heart was just so full, it couldn’t hold any more emotion inside. I was bursting at the seams.

Below is a letter I wrote to them years ago when I first fell in love with them. I emailed it to their fan club, not sure if they would ever actually read it, but it gave me a sense of peace knowing that I at least could express my adoration for these guys.

I could probably think of a thousand different ways to start this email out, but for some reason none of them seem good enough. I have no idea who will even receive this, if it will really be the band – or if you’ve gotten large enough now where you have others screen your letters. Nevertheless, I wanted to write.

I wanted to say something that would make me stand out from the rest. I’m sure you get so many thousands of letters and emails and notes telling you how much you are adored… And – as much as I AM one of those people – I would hate to be labeled. I wish there was some way for me to be remembered in your minds as an individual, rather than just a fan. I guess I can’t help that you guys rock and the world is in love with you. :)

Enough babble – I really just needed to write this to tell you how much you really have saved my life in so many ways. When I first heard you guys, I was coming out of a terrible time in my life, and you guys really made everything worth while. I could feel like there is no point in waking up in the morning, but hearing you guys makes it easier. I’m really NOT alone. And it amazes me that five guys that I have never even met have the ability to make me feel understood. I guess that’s your talent. And you guys are full of it – in so many ways. And watching your interviews and hearing what you guys actually have to say make me realize how down to earth and REAL you guys are… Which is so hard to come by in “rock stars” these days.

It’s almost sad to know that there are five kick ass guys in the world that can make me feel so much better about myself and the world, and I’ll never actually get a chance to sit down and talk with them. Maybe in another time, right?

Keep up the amazing work, guys. Keep kicking ass, breaking hearts, rocking out, touching people, and slowly but surely conquering the world one song at a time. You guys really are superheros.

One of your many minions,
Jessica S.

23 March 2011 @ 10:50 pm

Originally published at Skyspun.org. You can comment here or there.

Day 12 > Something you never seem to get complimented on.

You know… Is it odd that I can’t really think of something I think I should get complimented on that I don’t?

I suppose sometimes I get told that I’m “too nice” or that I don’t stand up for myself. Does that count?

I don’t get complimented on the fact that I’m motivated and full of energy… Usually I’m being poked at for acting like an old woman (get out of my damn yard!) who is in bed by the time the sun sets. And I definitely don’t get complimented on the fact that I have a clean bill of health. I have more issues than my grandparents! (Alright, alright… a stretch… but only a slight one.)

My boss constantly says to me, “You used to be so organized and tidy… What happened?” Which irks the ever-loving shit out of me. I am tidy and organized when I have my own space to work in. But… I suppose a part of my anal-ways have slipped a bit since being in my “new” job. Le sigh.

What things do you not get complimented on?

23 March 2011 @ 06:08 pm

Originally published at Skyspun.org. You can comment here or there.

Day 11 > Something people seem to compliment you the most on.

Even though this sounds absolutely ridiculous, I feel almost self conscious to write this post. I feel like even though I may not agree with what people compliment me on, admitting that I get it a lot somehow shows that I’m confirming it.

I can assure you, this is not true. Far from, really.

.. Physically, I seem to get complimented on my eyes the most. Although I’ve always found them an ordinary mix between green or blue (dependent on my mood, the weather, and what I’m wearing), people have always mentioned how “beautiful” or “extraordinary” my eyes seem to be. I get it from my father, who also has “mood-eyes”… And I think it might have something to do with the fact that they are fairly light in color, but have a very vivid, darker ring around the outside of the iris. If you ask me, I think they’re a bit droopy and come with their own set of luggage (take a look at those bags!), but then again I have always seemed to be a bit harsher on myself than anyone else.

DSC_6613 Another physical attribute people seem to note a lot is my smile/laugh. Apparently it’s “contagious” (much like the plague, maybe?). I suppose this is probably a good thing, considering how much I laugh – mostly at myself. If I had a high-pitched annoying laugh (a la Fran Drescher), I probably wouldn’t be surrounded by such loving friends. And as for the smile… Well. I call it “horse-mouth”, at which my husband hits me for.

She Takes Off Her Face At Night Personality-wise, people tend to compliment me on my sense of humor and ability to laugh at myself. I’m forever making a joke. When I was a teenager, I was dubbed “O.B.” (which stood for “overboard” not the feminine product, thankyouverymuch) due to the fact that I didn’t know when to stop. It’s played in my favor throughout my life, though, as it helps to be able to “laugh it off” when life hands you lemons. I will say that I guess I can kind of agree with this compliment. I do think I’m funny, if I say so myself… Even if it’s at my own expense.

What do you get complimented on?

16 March 2011 @ 11:51 am

Originally published at Skyspun.org. You can comment here or there.

Day 10 > Someone you need to let go, or wish you didn’t know

I’ve been lax in writing this one because I really didn’t want to write it. Not that any of the other days were any easier to write about (see: Day 3), but for some reason, I fear that the person I’m going to write about might read this and be hurt.

This past October I rekindled my relationship with my ex-fiance, who I hadn’t spoken to in about six years. We didn’t exactly end on the best of terms, and I had always worried that he never found happiness in his life. We began talking online and started to get close again.

To make a very long, very painful story short – I did some things I’m not proud of, and I was very close to leaving my husband a few weeks ago. I hurt a lot of people that I loved, most importantly – my husband. I decided at the last minute that I didn’t want to give up on my marriage so quickly, and that I really needed to try (since on Day 6 I had admitted my fear of getting divorced). My husband was an amazing man who not only forgave me, but also wanted to fight for our marriage and to keep me…

So, I had to say goodbye (for now) to my ex-fiance again. He understood that in order to truly make my marriage work, I needed to keep him away in order to focus on what was important to me. He was heartbroken and devastated, but respected my choice. It was probably the hardest thing I’ve had to do in a very long time.

How do you choose between two people you love so very much? How do you decide who’s life you “ruin”? I felt awful for “ruining” my ex’s life again, since I always took the blame in doing just that six years ago. But, for once I took a stand for what I really needed and wanted, and didn’t base my decision on how it would affect others. I felt selfish and guilty, but in the end, it was the right thing to do.

With all that said, I feel like I need to let my ex go. I have no doubt that we are soulmates on some level. We will always be bound at the heart, and there will always be a piece of me with him. I will always love him, and I will never truly get over him. But at the same time, I have moved on and chose my path. I am happy with my husband. I love thinking about my future with him, and I cannot tell you how lucky I am to have such an understanding, loving spouse. My ex will always be with me in my heart, but I don’t think he can be with me in my life. It isn’t healthy for me, or for my marriage.

And it truly breaks my heart.

11 February 2011 @ 09:44 am

Originally published at Skyspun.org. You can comment here or there.

Day 9 > Someone you didn’t want to let go, but just drifted.

I grew up on dead end street. It was tucked away at the far side of town, and people rarely knew we even existed. We liked it that way, though. The residents were all so very close to each other. I have fond memories of swimming in our neighbor’s in-ground pool, and summer block parties that would reach far into the wee hours of the morning. No one locked their doors, and no one worried about their children, because all the parents knew that everyone treated the neighborhood kids as their own.

It was there that I found my best friend, J. She had moved into the house across the street from us all the way from Australia when I was only a young child, and we immediately took to each other. I still have a vague memory of my mother coming to me in the back yard, telling me that J had moved in, and that she wanted to say hi. I stood on my back porch and shyly introduced myself. We were inseparable ever since.

There are so many memories. So many cherished moments of using intercoms in our bedrooms (way before we were ever allowed to have a telephone in our room) to talk to each other late at night. Playing the longest game of Barbies ever known in her closet while listening to Debbie Gibson’s “Out of the Blue.” And so many ridiculous arguments, like what the purpose of a sports bra was. Drawing a line down the center of the street and claiming that we weren’t allowed to cross it because we were so angry with each other.

It wasn’t until we got older that things got a bit trickier. We started dating, and I started to have problems adjusting to the fact. I did things I wasn’t very proud of, and unfortunately it slowly pushed her away from me. My parents divorced, and a few years later, so did hers. They were going to be moving… And the thought alone made me sick to my stomach. I couldn’t imagine living on our street without her right there across from me.

The last day they were at the house, I went to visit her. The movers had emptied all their belongings by that time, and walking into the front door felt like I had entered an alternate universe. It was an empty shell of their house. We went upstairs to her bedroom, and I had a flash of the memory when they had first moved in. We had decided to put on our socks and slide back and forth on the hardwood floor before they moved all her furniture in… And she slipped and broke her arm.

We sat in the once-again empty room for a bit and reminisced. J suddenly had an idea. She grabbed a pen and we carved our initials in the baseboard of her bedroom: JC & JS BFF.

Sitting on her front step, we watched her mother load more belongings into their car and flutter around the house, looking for little pieces of their lives to pack away. I had to go for a bit, and was worried I would miss J before I got back. “Don’t worry, we’ll be here for a while longer,” she told me. So, I left.

When I returned, the house was empty and the cars were gone. They were gone, and I never really got the chance to say goodbye. I cried and cried and cried.

I would like to say that we kept in touch. I would love to be able to tell you that we remained “BFF”s even though we no longer lived near each other. Sadly, we lost touch for a long time. My mother used to tell me that she felt the only reason we were ever that close was because we were forced into a friendship due to the fact that we lived close to each other. But I know better than that. We were complete different ends of the spectrum, but we were like sisters.

We keep in touch a bit now through Facebook. She’s married with a daughter and another on the way, living in Pennsylvania. I haven’t seen her in years. I miss our friendship, but I know that it will never quite be that way again. I guess that’s what happens when you grow up.

01 February 2011 @ 03:58 pm

Originally published at Skyspun.org. You can comment here or there.

Day 8 > Someone who made your life hell, or treated you like shit.

As a whole, my life has been filled with people who have been unconditionally supportive and full of love and respect for me. Of course, no one is ever perfect, but I’ve never really felt eternally “wronged” by someone… There is a person, though, who will forever be in my head as someone who scarred my heart.

I was in my previous relationship at the time. There were still a handful of guys that I had met before I met my boyfriend at the time who I kept in touch with. One of those people was Army Guy. Although he was local, he was stationed in Iraq at the time of our friendship. We would speak on the phone a lot, and talk online via Myspace messages. He was a sweet guy, although very lonely.

Shortly into our friendship, he came back home, and asked to meet up with me. I didn’t seem the harm in getting coffee with him… He seemed genuinely interested in being my friend. So, I made plans with him, and he came to my house to pick me up. I actually even introduced him to my boyfriend at the time.

It was a bad idea. He flirted and tried to kiss me. It got worse, and I told him to take me home. I sat in the passenger seat of his car, staring out the window in a rest stop on the side of the highway while he begged me to watch him. I refused. I told him to take me home again. He told me he would just finish himself off if I didn’t watch anyway.

I wasn’t even angry until I got home. I think once the shock wore off, I let my real emotions show. He tried to apologize and tell me it was just that I was the first female he was with since being in Iraq and he just got carried away. He was wrong and he knew it and he just wanted another chance to be my friend.

This is when he took advantage of my kindness. My ability to try and see the good in people and give people second chances.

He did not deserve a second chance, and I will regret that forever.

He took me to dinner. I remember he flirted incessantly with the waitress, which shouldn’t have bothered me, because I was in a relationship – but it did. I remember being wary of the entire situation, and feeling somewhat distant with our conversation. After dinner was finished, we walked back to his car. It was dark out, and I remember I suddenly was getting cramps in my stomach. I had leaned the seat back and was holding my stomach while he tried to massage it. I told him I should just head home, because I wasn’t feeling very well.

“Why don’t I get a motel room?” he asked me. I vetoed that idea in an instant. No, just take me home. Just take me home. I think I should just go home. Home. Home.

He started to drive. “Nothing will happen. It’s just to talk,” he kept saying. I kept saying it was a bad idea. Please, just take me home. I’m not going in a room with you.

He parked in a motel parking lot. “I’m getting the room whether you come in or not, so you may as well.” He got out of the car. I yelled out after to him that I wasn’t going in. I sat there as I watched him walk into the lobby. What the fuck do I do now? I was in a parking lot somewhere after dark with someone I wasn’t even really supposed to be with. My boyfriend didn’t know I was with him. Where was I supposed to go?

I went to the room.

He never hurt me. He never restrained me. He never physically forced me.

But he guilted me. He trapped me. I had nowhere to go. I felt like I had no one to call. I cried. and cried and cried and cried. I did it to end the night so he would take me home. I just wanted to go home.

On the way home, tears staining my cheeks, watching the headlights pass out the window, his hand found its way to my thigh and he rubbed it sympathetically.

“You’re not a bad person. If you were, you wouldn’t feel so guilty about this. He’s a lucky guy.”

I hate him.

21 January 2011 @ 02:23 pm

Originally published at Skyspun.org. You can comment here or there.

Day 7 > Someone who has made your life worth living for.

My parents were married 16 years before my mother divorced my father.

I have very vivid memories of their life together before that point. My father was an alcoholic with a lot of unresolved issues who had made a point to take it out on my mother. There were nights I hid my brother in my bedroom with me as the yelling and slamming raged outside in the living room and kitchen.

One night, my father came home in a drunken fury. My brother, thankfully, was already in bed and I was watching television. I must have been seven or eight years old at the time. He and my mother began to argue, and my father started threatening her. It ended with him grabbing her arm and pulling her out of the recliner she was in… tipping the entire chair over in the process. I stood there and watched as he dragged her on the floor, ripping her shirt off, trying to pull her to the front door and screaming that she needed to leave. I had no idea what to do. I knew that if he had gotten her outside, I wouldn’t be able to get her back. I had to stop him.

So… in my nightgown, in the middle of the night, I ran out the front door. I ran and into the street and started yelling, running in circles. My hope was that my father would chase me and give my mother time to get up and compose herself. It worked.

The cops came that night. I remember sitting in my neighbor’s house with my brother, wrapped up in a blanket and seeing the flashing lights reflecting in their front window. My brother was confused. I knew exactly what was happening, even at seven.

Fast forward a few years. It was my thirteenth birthday. My mother had already divorced my father, and was taking me to visit him at the hospital. I remember walking into the wing of the hospital, thinking that no one really looked “sick”. I didn’t understand what was wrong with my dad. He seemed ok. I felt awkward. He gave me a Talkboy. Later I would find out in a therapy session that he had tried to commit suicide shortly after the divorce started, and the hospital wing he was in was the psych ward.

You’re probably wondering why this story has anything to do with the topic given. How could someone who had given me so many awful, tragic memories make my life worth living for?

I’ll tell you why. My father has overcome so many obstacles I have lost count. He pulled his life together, stopped drinking and got help. He is a completely different person than he was when I was a child. And while many people would find it hard to forgive their parent for “screwing up their childhood,” he was the only person growing up who understood me. Out of the two children he had, I was the one who ended up with many of the same psychological problems he suffers from. I was also diagnosed with asthma, which I got from him. And whenever I had a moment that I felt completely alone, my father would understand every single thought that went through my head.

All I would have to say is “Hey daddy” and he would know something was wrong. He just… gets me. And he has given me hope that no matter how bad your life becomes, you can always make a difference. It’s just a matter of how badly you want it.

My father is amazing. My father is the strongest person I’ve ever known. I am so proud to be able to say he’s my dad. And he has given me so much strength in my own life that I don’t even know what to do with it.

Thank you, daddy.