Johnny, Johnny, Johnny.
Where do I even start? Probably with the one time I was ever grounded in high school and you were the only family member who reminded me that my life wasn’t over. Or the only goal I ever scored in a soccer match, which Mom and Dad missed, but you sure didn’t. Or the time I was almost run off the road by a semi, and no one but you answered the phone to let me cry it out, because trucks coming off the mountain are scary.
But really, it comes down to the countless family dinners, all of the games and graduations, the ordinary things and the important things. You were always there, rooting for us, supporting us, keeping Mom sane for us.
Happy Father’s Day, Johnny. We wouldn’t be a family without you.