No love like the Fathers.

I want to blog about this so I don't ever forget. After Easter Mass, my dad puts his arm around my shoulder and whispers in my ear as we're walking outside. It goes a little something like this,

"I relate more to you than I do to john because of our melancholic ways. I love you deeply. Mary you are the apple of my eye. I take deep interest in your happiness, and I will cherish you always."