09/30/2026
Dad
Sometimes I feel silly when people find out just how horse-obsessed I am—but never with my Dad.
I’ll never forget the first horse parade he took me to, or the time he called the radio station over and over until he won tickets to see the traveling Lipizzaner show at the Delta Center.
Or the time he convinced a buddy with racehorses that I could ride well enough to ride one of his—then watched me gallop toward a fence, crossing his fingers that I could actually stop her.
Or the time he arranged for me to join his buddy’s team-penning group, even though I had absolutely no experience.
His favorite horse color was pinto, and the day he brought me the Black Beauty videotape from Sam’s Club was epic.
When I was 14, he drove me to some unknown barn to try a wild Arabian horse, knowing full well I could never afford to keep a horse. But he let me dream anyway. And, of course, when I got bucked off that sales horse, he was there to pick me up out of the dirt.
Thank you, Dad.
I never questioned how much you loved me. I always knew you believed in me. Whether you were cheering me on in soccer or debate, talking with me about all things horses, or connecting with me through our shared love of animals—you were always there.
You never hesitated to help me with every home project because you were the king of general contractors. And you called me most days of the week just to tell me how much you loved me. You never forgot to tell me that you loved JP, too, and that he was just like one of your own sons.
I’m not sure how the world is supposed to keep turning without you in it. I’m not sure how I’ll ever get used to not having you around.
I hate that my babies won’t get to grow up with you.
I love you, Dad—more than I could ever put into words.
I wish you were here.
