It has been a long time since mom left us two alone and went somewhere over the rainbow. I was small two-year-old girl and you were a single father in his forties who did not know anything about rising girls. What you did know is how to love unconditionaly. Your shoulders were the highest and safest spot in my little world. When I had no friends to play with, you played with me. You were so many things. A princess, a dragon, a horse, a dad, a mom, a shoulder to cry on when I missed her so much I could not hide the tears.I was the smallest child in the neighborhood that we moved in after her death. Being that small and vulnerable, someone would have thought that I would be scared of everything. However I was not, because you were always there to tell me what to do if someone bullied me or if someone tried to hurt me in any way. You gave me what in this world only belongs to men. An absolute freedom. Everyone kept telling you that you were spoiling me by doing that. Some would dared to ask you if you would prefer a boy over a girl. You would just laugh, shook your head and tell them that I was worth three sons. I knew you were secretly proud of you little rebelious daughter. I was even more proud for having a father like you. You teached me that nobody can tell me what to do, what to think and how to act. You teached me how to be unapologeticaly me. So I have to give that one to you. You rock at parenthood. Even depression and sadness after mom's death did not stop you from being an absolute king of fathers if something like that even exists. For some time we did not even have a home. There were times we had just enough money for a loaf of bread and a cream cheese. We went through all of that together, side by side, like an old war friends. I love to listen to your monologes about life. You talk about life so wonderfuly whether it is about past, present or future. You do it so optimisticaly and while you do it I can see your eyes lighten up and suddenly in front of me is not sixty-year-old man, but a small child. I asked you the other day what were you worrying about and if I could help you carrying that weight that's been on your shoulders. You told me your biggest worry was me and that I grew up too fast and that you fear that you were not the best father. I do not know a lot of things. Maybe you could've been a better father. Maybe I could've been a better daughter. Maybe we could've both be better. But I know this for sure. You are the emperor of all of the universes. You are a dad and a mom; a wonderful human and a friend; my biggest support and a problem solver and if I could choose who my father would be, I would alway choose you.