I went to a memorial service today. It was for the father of a friend. It was a beautiful service. One of the most simplistic, yet meaningful celebrations I've experienced. Even though I didn't have the privilege of knowing him well, I felt like we were all sitting in a big living room reminiscing about an old friend. The whole time I couldn't help but think about my own Daddy. My friend's dad was only one year and one day older than mine. I kept thinking that a month ago it could have been me saying goodbye to my daddy. It was overwhelming for me. I felt sad, grateful, and guilty all at the same time. As soon as I got into my car to leave, I called my Daddy. I started crying before he even answered the phone because I knew I was going to hear his voice. "Well hey there girl!" he said as soon as he heard me, "What are you up to?" I told him where I'd been. "Honey, did he know the Lord?" he asked quite seriously. I told him all about Mr. Byron and the legacy he has left to his family. "Well, it sounds to me like we should be rejoicing, because he is, don't you think?" he said trying to make me feel more light hearted. I said I agreed but that I was also so grateful that I still had my daddy to talk to. "Well, I am to. And don't worry, I don't plan on standing on any railroad tracks anytime soon, ok?" I laughed and said ok. Daddy does have a odd sense of humor, but it makes me laugh. Thank you, Father, for letting my daddy make me laugh today.