Happy Birthday, Jeff.

Today is my dad's birthday.
Not my dad by blood, but my dad by love.
Jeffrey turns 55 today.
What an old man.

Jeff has been my papa bear for as long as I can remember.
My first memory is him hugging my mom in a Hawaiian shirt, with his big van full of boxes in our driveway. My next memory is being outside my mom's room and asking my mom what I'm supposed to call him: Dad or Jeff? Mom said, "Call him whatever you want," and I decided on Jeff. Jeff slowly became Dad.

It was rocky at first, and we bumped heads. We argued and we disagreed and there were some toes that got stepped on, on both sides. But now, I understand him and he understands me. Now, we get each other. We respect each other and we love each other. Now, he's my dad and I love that I have him.

Never once has he tried to replace my own father, and he has always put my Dad's guidance and morals into everything he teaches me. He has always reminded me how much my Dad loved me, loves me and will always love me, and he is sure to give me extra loves and hugs that my Dad isn't able to do.

Jeff has always supported me, always pushed me, always guided me. He has told me when I'm being dumb and praised me when I'm being smart. He has shown me the things that I am able to do, when I have self doubt. He has looked after me and protected me. He has been my rock, my support, my guidance, my love.

He has been my Dad and
I am very grateful.

Happy Birthday, Jeff.

I love you.