4. Dad

He's in the driver's side bobbing his head along to some classic rock song on the radio. I had to remind him to buckle up. His two toned Chevy Silverado fits him to a T- strong, efficient, tall, and kept up.

I've grown several feet since my earliest memory of him, but I still feel really small. At 6'3 with a loud booming voice, my dad's stoicism can carry a crowd long before they realize he's in the room.

"The men you always date have soft hands." he says.

I tell him they don't make em like they used to.

In many ways I am his reflection, from the perpetual dark circles under our eyes to our ability to do some hard labor and fancy up in no time at all. I inherited his presence but not his intelligence. I inherited his temper but lack his inability to communicate.

Still, there are moments, even as I inch closer to my 30's, where I all I need is to curl up in a ball next to him on the couch and watch hockey.

And like the first day of kindergarten when I was 5, I still cry when I say goodbye to him when I won't see him for a while.