A blog post for the man who has relentlessly proclaimed he “only wants socks for Christmas.”

Dear Dad,

Watching you from a distance, my how things have changed.

You’ve grown older, so have I. I have two children of my own.

You’ve moved a few times, and I no longer live at home.

You remarried, brought on more kids to call your own.

It’s hard now that our talks are less face to face and mostly on the phone.

I found a soldier to marry who has a servant’s heart.

It kills you that I’m far away, that this job moved us apart.

I have three rings around my finger, one you made and my wedding bands.

And even though I’m twenty-three, I still like to hold your hand.

Sometimes I wish I were a kid again so I could relive my childhood.

I bet you wish the same thing, too, and if given the chance to start all over, I know that you would.

Time seems to have escaped us like it always, always does.

But there’s still a little girl in me who still calls you just because.

Sometimes I want to hear your voice or get advice from you.

No matter what you’re doing, you answer and say the words I need you to.

If I need you, you say, “pretty girl, you know I need you, too.”

And when times are happy, you hug me tight and say, ” I always believed in you.”

Dad, there’s not much that your strong hands cannot do.

I always believed you were toughest out of all the dads I knew.

I always believed I loved you more and to this day I still do.

You always pushed me toward my dreams, said I had plans I needed to pursue.

Even when I felt I failed, you never told me you agreed.

I always used to follow you around, and you would proudly lead.

Remember when I caught that fish and you took my picture by the pond?

You hung that picture on your wall as a tribute to our special bond.

One day I found a box you kept of all the things I ever made for you.

You took it with you every time you would have to move.

Remember when I would hold your leg at school and beg you not to go?

Sometimes I still feel that way even though now its me who’s leaving home.

Although reliving childhood would be a lot of fun.

I know you think being a grandpa is like a prize you’ve won.

Man, we sure got lucky that God paired me up with you.

And Grandpa up in heaven, I bet he feels that way, too.

I’ve loved you my entire life from day one, it’s true.

And anytime I think about home I always think of you.

Merry Christmas, Dad.

Love, your little girl