On yesterday my brother and his wife renewed their wedding vows. During the ceremony he took a moment to acknowledge individuals that were present for their first ceremony that have since passed away, my father being one of them.

His words weren’t elaborate but caused an outpouring of tearful emotions.

My brother isn’t blood but the love I have for him couldn’t be any stronger if he were. He’s the little boy across the street from my house that grew an attachment to my daddy. There was never a moment when my sister nor I questioned why he was around, his presence was actually a relief because there was only so much CNN and government a daughter wants to hear and our limit was exceeded daily.

I’ll never know the depth of their relationship but I’m certain it was that of a father and son. In fact in his own words, my father had been an example of what a man is and should be.

As I sat and cried yesterday my heart broke for the now man, husband, father that stood before me. Who he is serves as a reminder of who my father was, and that’s a good man, a family man.

I’m a doting daughter and a proud sister. I’m a woman who was raised by a man that loved her enough to teach her the concept of a village – it was never about “just us” when someone in need surrounded us. I’m thankful for the opportunity to watch the love “Mr. C” poured into my brother flourish.

You’re holding the torch now Elliott, and judging from what I saw yesterday you’re doing a mighty fine job! Today as I reflect on daddy’s birthday I thank you for remembering, for honoring, and for emulating his greatness.