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There are two people in your life
who will always be a part of you every day,
wherever you go, whatever you do-
one of those people is your father, your Dad,
your hero, your strength, the one who will protect you,
defend you, work hard for you all his life;
and the other is your Mother, your Mum,
the first vision of beauty and perfection you ever saw,
and if you are as lucky as me
the kindest, the most caring, the most wonderful,
and the most amazing woman, and role-model,
you will ever be lucky to meet or ever know.

Our parents are the reason we are even alive
and kicking in the first place,
and if it were not for them we would literally
never have been born;
our parents saw our first moment, our first blink,
our first smile, our first adventure into unexplored territory
when we first set out on our own,
even if at first it was merely an exuberant crawl.

Our Mothers always know us better than we know ourselves;
our Mothers always want the best for us;
our Mothers always have an instinct
about what the next thing is going to be to come out of our mouths;
our Mothers always know all the names of the trees in our forest.

The best Mothers in the world would walk over hot coals for their children;
the best Mothers in the world would, and do, sacrifice anything
and everything else for their treasured offspring;
the best Mothers in the world would lay down their life for their child
in front of an oncoming train;
the best Mothers in the world would consider, and do consider,
the life and the happiness of their family their top-priority,
and they embrace every second of being a Mother,
and they love all the joy that honour, privilege, and gift, brings.

My Mum is smart, beautiful, fantastic, and true of heart;
my Mum is vibrant, special, funny, amazing, and unlike anyone;
my Mum is my soul, my friend, my conscience,
and she will be forever as she has been from the start.
My Mum is the greatest Mother, because she is always caring for others
like she always has her entire life,
and I am so lucky to be her son,
and I am the luckiest man in the world
that my Mother is my Mum.

Not every Father can be a Dad,
not every Dad can be a Father,
not every son can have a father,
or a dad to look up to,
not every son, no other son,
has a hero, a role-model, a giant,
a great, honest, kind-hearted, and caring,
man as their Father, like I do-
and that is why I am so lucky to have a Dad
who is as special as you.

You have always been there to hold my hand,
you have always been there to pick me up,
you have always been there to guide me home
like a plane coming in to land,
you have always been there for me,
and I have always looked at you and said to myself
‘that is and you are the man who I want to be
when I grow up’.

There is only one of each of us in this world, in this life,
and there can only be love and respect between two people
if it is proven time and again that what binds them
has been present since birth and will always be there.
I have always known that you and I were more
than just father and son;
I have always felt that you and I were like the Earth to the Sun,
and when I look at you I feel like I am looking at the best
and the most incredible man I have ever known in my entire life,
who has given me everything he could and more,
and who I sometimes look at when you are sleeping,
just like you used to look at me when I was a boy,
and I marvel in wonder at who you are,
and I remember all the places we have been to together,
and all the things we have shared.

I remember you teaching me how to ride a bike.
I remember you teaching me how to fire an arrow with a bow.
I remember you and I putting together a home-made glider
and spending an entire Saturday afternoon watching the glider
soar into the air and then return to Earth,
and then return to the air by your hand-
just as my imagination too became sky-bound and took flight.

I will never forget what you have taught me,
what you do for me every day,
and every moment with you has been the greatest gift a son,
a boy, a man, anyone and I have ever had.
I wouldn’t be the man I am, I wouldn’t have done what I have done,
nor seen what I have seen, or been where I have been, without you,
and that is why I am the luckiest son there has ever been,
because you are my Dad.

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One of the first lessons that my father ever taught me
was how to start a fire;
one of the first gifts that my father ever gave me
was the knowledge of how to keep a flame alive
and burning for as long as it can,
so that its light and warmth will never expire.
My father taught me that a well-fueled fire
will continue to burn long into the night and go on into the next day-
just as long as you treasure it, look after it, don’t take it for granted;
and if it seems to be dying right in front of you
you do everything that you can to make sure that doesn’t happen,
and never walk away.

Fire was the integral discovery of humanity
that took our ancestors out of the caves that they lived in,
and away from the camp-fires that they sat around,
and fueled their dreams that they could start a fire of their own-
one that humanity and the world had never known:
a fire that would spread from heart to heart, and from head to hands,
that would see us all reaching for the stars
and searching for truths that we can all appreciate and understand.
That fire is always there,
you can feel it beating and burning in your chest all the time-
it can make you feel euphoric when you are happy and inspired,
and it keeps you going when you are feeling down or tired.
And that fire within you is your one true gift-
your fire came into being when two fires, the fires of your parents,
became one fire-
the same fire that has been burning for billions of years,
made up of many colours, that will go on for as long as the universe exists.

Every time I see a flame dancing in front of me,
or a fire burning strong and bright,
I feel something inside of me-
my own flame, my own fire-
being stirred and gifting me with insight.
Some people call the fire,
that will continue to burn forever within every living thing,
‘hope’, ‘drive’, or ‘will’;
but I like to think of it as something more powerful,
I like to think of it as the necessary component of all life, everywhere-
and it should be cherished and basked in,
and observed around us and above us in the air.

To be able to feel and to see the fire in as many people I can
around the world is something that I look forward to the most,
and it is what makes me rise everyday a little higher.
There is nothing more amazing to behold
than seeing the lessons of my father right in front of me,
and keeping alive the flames and the sparks of natures fire.

The first time I saw my father cry
was heart-breaking and world shattering to me-
I think I was about eight years old,
the night that our dog Jess died,
the night that everyone in our house came together
and cried with my Dad as we said goodbye to a part of our family.
Thinking back to that night is like trying to remember a dream,
but what is still real in my mind, and what has stayed with me,
is seeing my Dad overcome with so much sadness,
because it was something that I had never seen.
I cried on that night because Jess was my dog,
but the reason I cried and could not stop crying
was because to me my Dad was a God,
and seeing the most powerful
and one of the most influential people in my life powerless,
as he appeared,
it taught me from an early age that everything comes to an end
and that even the god that was my father had limits to his magic
that he was forced to adhere.

Whenever I see my father cry
I feel every tear of sadness, and joy, as if they were my own;
whenever I see my fathers tears well-up in front of his mesmerizing blue eyes,
I always take him by the hand and tell that he is not alone.
My Dad feels the world more so than anyone I have ever known,
my Dad is a lover and a genius of all things-
as would be more than apparent if you were to talk to him
and if you were lucky enough to visit him at his home.
There is nothing that hurt my heart more,
and there is nothing else that to this day brings more tears to my eyes,
than to see the powerhouse who is my Dad overcome with emotion,
and the sight of seeing my father cry.

A little boy with his Dad looking up at The Moon through his telescope;
a young man, standing in the darkness, gazing up
at the wonder of the night-sky- filled with awe, touched by inspiration,
possessed by hope.

A little boy turns to his Dad, and asks:
Dad, how does the moon stay up in the sky?
a young man looks up at the glowing orb of the night
and he sees the face of his father in his minds eye.

A little boy looks into the eyes of his Dad, and his Dad replies:
The moon will always be there, son- you may not always see its face,
but the light that it emits will never die.

A young man, bathed in moon light, engulfed in the peace and silence
of a star-filled night,
looks through his telescope at the ancient companion of Earth
that is the satellite of wonder, the moon of white;
a little boy looks through his telescope,
as his Dad puts a hand on his shoulder as he too looks up at the sky-
the little boy continues to look on, as his imagination begins to fly!

A young man looks up at the moon
and at the infinite light-scape that he lives under;
a little boy takes his Dads hand, looking up at his face he asks:
will the moon look any bigger when I’m older, I wonder?

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