When I was five years old my sister, brother and I were talking about who we were going to marry when we grew up. I piped up (I was always "piping up"...not much has changed) and said that I was going to marry daddy, my sister Victoria could marry our uncle and my brother could marry our mother. It was set in stone on that day and I looked forward to it. The years passed and I eventually realized that marrying my father was out of the question, but this didn't change or diminish my love and adoration for this man who could do no wrong...and in turn I could do no wrong to.

As I got older I began to realize that I was holding up every man I dated to the shining light that is my father, causing all but one to pale in comparison. He is the man against whom I measured all others until the day I found one who came close and quickly married him before I could change my mind.

I can vividly remember being a small child and searching out my father when I wanted a story or a kiss or a cuddle. I remember sitting on his lap at my grandparent's house and my grandfather commenting that I was a "Daddy's Girl" if he'd ever seen one -- I wouldn't leave him alone if he was around. I remember walking with him places and him taking me skating in the winter and talking to him about baseball and hockey -- in fact I will never forget the first hockey game he took me to as a child...how could I?

The man hung the moon for me from the moment I can remember knowing who he was. I remember when I was about twelve he came downstairs one cold winter night around Christmas and scared the living daylights out of me...he had shaved off his beard (which I had loved) and looked like a totally different person. I remember him reading to me while I fell asleep and how he would carry me upstairs wrapped in a blanket to my bed when I fell asleep on the sofa in the living room, trying to stay awake with him to watch hockey on Saturday night.

My father has been my knight in shining armor for as long as I can remember -- in fact I can't recall a time in my life when I wouldn't look at him and feel anything but love and adoration. To him I have always been a little girl who needed to be taken care of - who required love, support and a certain amount of indulgence.

Now that I'm a grown woman with an intellect as well as life of her own he sees me as an equal who is happy to receive as well as give him constructive criticism. We still cuddle...just not in the same way that we used to...which sometimes makes me sad. We don't touch but it's there, the love, in our voices, in what we say and what we do. It was also there yesterday when he boisterously blew out the candles on the banana chocolate chip bundt cake I made him for his 70th birthday celebration.

Happy birthday daddy...you're still the most amazing man I'll ever know.