First major milestone come and gone...

One year ago yesterday I was undergoing a bi-lateral mastectomy in an effort to greatly reduce my chances of the cancer coming back, and also in hopes to get rid of all that was left as well.  I woke up in recovery groggily asking "Am I clear? What about the lymph-nodes?", it wasn't until a few hours later when Dr. Ryan came by again that I grasped the fact that he had told me numerous times "The markers were clear, there's no sign of cancer left", I was relieved.  

Now I've hit the huge milestone of being cancer free for a whole year.  My how time has flown.  I still have six months, or so, to go until I'm out of the "risk of recurrence" stage, and I can hang with that.  I think cancer learned a big lesson when it decided to invade my body...it's not coming back (at least we can hope).



So thank you for the support over the past year and a half.  Thank you for going along on this journey with me, and continuing still.  While I wished for lots of things to happen yesterday, it's okay that I celebrated the day away mostly in solitude.  Brunch with the girls was perfect in the morning, then the afternoon to myself was just fine.  I won't be selfish and say what I wish would have happened, because in truth I'm a year cancer free and that's all that matters.

So in the month of Breast Cancer Awareness please make sure to get yourself checked, and if you've already found something *please* go to your doctor and get it checked out.  Early detection saves lives and you can't fix the problem until you know what the problem is.

It's all an illusion I tell you...all an illusion.

Me the Teacher

I have found myself, as of late, using this phrase a lot "It's all an illusion I tell you...all an illusion".  I use it when I'm given praise, complimented, or recognized for something positive and I'm not really sure where it came from or why it's stuck around so far but it amuses me, and I relate to it on a visceral level that I can't quite explain.  

Allow me to try...

First my hair went away

I am coming to believe, realize, *know*; whatever word you want to use there, that some profound shifts took place in me over the course of the past year as I battled breast cancer.  One in particular was the loss of my sense of beauty.  First my hair went, which I had been growing out for so long and had *finally* reached a length I loved; then they took from me what is, too me, fundamental in being a woman.  They took my girls right off my chest and put foreign objects there, in their place.  Talk about weird.  Losing that sense of beauty took me to a level of pure, oh I don't know, purse sense of self maybe?  There was no hiding who I was, what I looked like, or what I was going through.  That was me, the real me, take it or leave it. 

And then they took my girls

Now, I'm not saying that I'm hiding or anything like that; but there is a certain level of...*difference* between who I was before cancer, who I was during it, and who I am now.  So what's the illusion I speak of?  What does it mean?  Why do I say it in reference to myself?  I've come to feel that something bigger than any of us could even *begin* to comprehend is going to happen in the next few years.  I don't know what, and I certainly don't know when, but it's going to happen and when it does, we will all be revealed for who we truly are, and the true reality in which we are to live.  So this, then, this life that we are all trying to carefully craft, nurture, and direct into where we want it to be because that's where *we* see ourselves in five, ten, fifteen years down the road, are undeniably #Crazy and are living in our illusion.

In the chemo chair

I sound crazy don't I?  And maybe I am, and I'm fine with that. *laugh*  it's just that after going through something as stupid as breast cancer, it just seems all so pointless to try and control everything in my life.  It makes much more sense to enjoy what I'm doing, to do it to the fullest extent of my ability, to not sweat the small stuff, and to watch myself closer because every single choice I make effects every thing else in some way so I want to make sure it's a positive effect indeed.

Me the Drum Line/Band Director

Now, don't get me wrong and don't misunderstand.  There are certainly things I do & say that I am not proud of, and kick myself in the pants over after it's said and done...but I'm working on that.  Yet that's what we are all, really, aren't we?  Works in progress.  We're constantly evolving into, hopefully, better versions of ourselves than we were the day prior.  Whether these changes take place because *we* wanted them too, or because something happened (or didn't), or because the divine spirits that reside above decided we needed too.  We're all aiming to become the best version of ourselves we can.

Our fifth anniversary spent at chemo

That's what I want for me, for you, for my students, for my husband, my family, hell even my dogs.  I want us ALL to start living the best life we possibly can as the best possible version of ourselves that we can.  So OWN YOURSELF.  Know that every single decision you make ripples throughout this world and affects everything.  Whether it be positive, negative, big, or small; it affects us all.  

Think on it for a while.  You may just see my crazy talk has some truth too it and if not that's okay, I'm going to keep living my life the best way I know how, enjoying it the best way I know how, being thankful for everyday I get, and continue to work on becoming the best version of myself I possibly can be until the truth is revealed to all of us. 

 

What a difference a year makes

      June 25th last year Tim and I celebrated our fifth wedding anniversary while I was bald, sick, and sitting in the Chemo chair.  What a difference a year makes.  This year we celebrated at a friend's wedding with me healthy and having a full head of hair.  Tim is my rock, my partner, my love, my best friend, my Peter.  Even though he can be incredibly frustrating and mind-boggling at times, he is my husband and knows me better than anyone, and vice versa.  I am so profoundly thankful to have him in my life and to have had his strength through breast cancer.  I look forward, hell we *both* look forward to many more years celebrating and traversing what life throws at us.  Love ya babe, let's continue this adventure.  

The latest with my hair

Enjoy!

http://justcallmeimelda.blogspot.com/2011/06/latest-with-my-hair.html

Thank You

 I have worked for the Hickman Mills school district for the past 8 years and while there have been some incredibly challenging situations throughout my career, it has always been my passion, my love, and the reason I get up in the morning.  So when the cancer diagnosis came down last May, while I was scared as all get out and worried about myself, I was worried about my students and I knew it was going to be the most challenging situation of them all.  

Thankfully, I had a quick and relatively painless journey.  I had the luxury of finding out at the end of the school year so the tests didn't get in the way much and I was able to face the scariness head on without having to worry about a class or a concert, or rehearsal.  Starting the chemo over the summer afforded me the ability to get used to my "new normal" without the hustle and bustle of the school year on top of it, and it also gave me the chance to get comfortable being bald before baring it in front of my students.  The only thing I had to live full on in front of my students was the mastectomy, but I wasn't overly concerned, even though they were concerned about me :)

After we made it past the really scary weeks, and after I dropped it on my kids, I picked myself up brushed myself off and determined to just live my life as normally as was humanly possible.  That meant getting up each morning, going to school, teaching my kids, going home, washing, rinsing, and repeating.  I didn't think I was doing anything special, and I believe that anyone out there would have done the exact same thing, so it was a wonderful surprise when I was presented with this at our last PD of the year.

     

My principal said some very lovely words, and it made me cry, then I said garbled thanks and awkwardly sat down.  So here is the real thank you to everyone who supported me through this school year.  

Thank you for comforting me with kind words and concerned gestures, 

for telling me to go home and sit down when you could see I was tired (even if I didn't listen).  

Thank you for accepting my bald head and mangled chest as I wandered the halls with my heating pad strapped to myself, counting down the hours till it was time to go home and take that pain pill.

Thank you for understanding when my energy bottomed out 

and I could do no more then just "be".  

I'm blessed to be who I am, working where I do, with such fabulous people.

I thank you from the depths of soul for the love and recognition behind this gift,

it means the world to me.

My students are the best

As my 8th year of teaching draws to a close (5 and a half days; but who's counting right?), I am reminded again exactly just why I teach.  I wrap my students in love, knowledge, discipline, and humor throughout the year hoping against hope that I am able to impress upon them some life lessons, and how to be a better person in this crazy world.  Yes of course I aim to achieve Drum Line glory, but it's more important that I make lasting relationships with these kids and become one of those consistent adult contacts that they can *always* count on.  







This group of students supported me more than I know how to express, this year.  I will never forget the day that I told "The 5" that it was breast cancer.  Even as the words "It's breast cancer" were leaving my lips, I wasn't concerned about me, I was concerned about *them*.  I was concerned about what this was going to do to them, their season, their dreams, their year.  After the bottom dropped out and the moment of silence passed, they looked at me and said "We got this Mz Stout.  We won't let it get you"  *tear*.  

And they didn't.

                                                                                                                                                                            Thursday evening we had out percussion banquet (pictures).  This is the 6th annual percussion banquet, I believe.  This is something that I do just for them.  We go to the Chinese buffet to eat, talk, laugh, reminisce, and I had out awards.  The awards aren't anything serious, they're more like "personality" awards.  "Comic Relief", "Best Smile", "Where's your stuff?", etc...those types of things.  Everyone gets one (hand made by me), as well as some other little gifts.  I make a speech about each kid as I present them with their award, then we finish eating and go home.  Now, I will be perfectly honest and tell you that I have wished each year for my Line to give me a gift in return.  I know that is selfish, but it is also the way I was raised.  Every single year I was in band/choir/theatre, we gave a gift to our directors at the end of the school year/end of play.  I remember chipping in with the cast of "The Wizard of Oz" to buy figurines for Dr. Boyd and Mr. Holly.  Roses for Dr. Boyd at the "Fantacular", gifts for Ms. Bear, Mr. Smith, Mrs. Cox, etc...it was what was done, what was expected.  It was our, the student's, small way of saying "THANK YOU FOR ALL OF YOUR HARD WORK".  If memory serves, I received a gift at the spring concert my first two years, and honestly that was only because I said something to the senior class about getting the head director a gift.  Ever since then, nothing.  Not that I'm complaining, don't get me wrong.  I understand this is a different day and age, and those types of things aren't done much anymore because it's not ingrained in our society anymore to thank those who work hard for you. 

But I digress....

                                                                                                                                             This year I was beyond surprised when "The 5", my boys, presented me with the coolest and most heartfelt gift I have *ever* received from students.  "The Survivor Award".  Not only that, but they put together a picture slideshow for me.  Amazing.  They are so special too me and I can't wait to rock out their senior year and watch it unfold.  So thank you thank you thank you thank you!  You all (the *entire* Line) mean the world to me.  Thank you for the gifts, the support, the love, laughter, and hard work.  I can't wait for summer rehearsals to start and for the new Line to catapult above and beyond the expectations I have set for you.  Love you all.

Coming up on the first of many anniversaries...

I had a nice long plan this morning (thank you MAP prep!) and was able to get a lot of work done which included looking at the last two months of school and ahead to the summer for Drum Line.  As I was counting off days, thinking time-line with competition, I realized that it's been a year since I found my lump.  I can't say what day for sure, so I count May 14th as the first real anniversary.  It was the day I was told I had breast cancer.  

This year instead of being awoken from a mid-afternoon nap only to hear the words "It's Breast Cancer", I'll be at a baby shower celebrating the upcoming birth of a very dear friend's first child.  That's as it should be I think :)

The anniversaries after that may not be celebrated forever but they will be this year:
June 5th: first chemo
September 17th: last chemo
Dec. 27th: "new boobie day"

The last anniversary will always have meaning and will always be marked by something special.  October 15th, the day I was told "You no longer have Breast Cancer".

#Awesome

Well if this isn't a transformation/evolution; I don't know what is!

 

Why I can never have a bad Valentine's Day

Precious Hears Bouquet FTD.com

Something happens to me at this time of the year and no it's not the giddy anticipation of a commercially infused holiday, although most all of them are commercialized anymore, no what happens is that I get frustrated.  I get frustrated at all the women out there who demand Engagements #waituntilheisready Diamonds #costtoomuchmoney, Dozens of Flowers #overpriced, Chocolates #whichmakeyoufatanyways, and "Gallant expressions of Love" from men who would otherwise #scratchtheirbuttsandbelch and when they don't get these things or don't receive them in the way *they* wanted, they then say they had a *bad* Valentine's Day.


These women, and yes I was included in that bunch once upon a time, get all worked up when their men don't publicly profess their love in the most ridiculous and commercialized ways.  In the grand scheme of life this *one* day is not what matters, it's the rest of them that do.  So instead of demanding grand gestures on this Valentine's Day, take it from a girl that knows about *real* bad Valentine's Days and count your lucky stars you've never experienced one of those.

I still have that vest

11 years ago a wonderful woman moved on from this world into the greater beyond when she lost her battle with breast and ovarian cancer.  Maggie Kling was her name and she was one hell of a lady.  I had the pleasure of being a part of her family when I dated her son, Greg, for about 2 and a half years during college.  I'll never forget the evening I met her.  We'd been dating for about 6 months maybe when he took me to the "OP" to meet his folks and his sister, Becki.  Oh I was nervous.  Greg was my first college, serious boyfriend and I wanted to make a good impression.  #Ishouldneverhaveworried.  Maggie welcomed me with a huge smile and open arms.  Never had I felt so instantly and totally included in someone else's family.  Before I knew it I was driving to OP to hang with Becki and Maggie before Greg got there.  Manicures, pedicures, my introduction to acrylic nails; my obsession with Old Navy, my short hairstyle, and my first encounter with breast cancer were all thanks to her.  Such fun times and such great memories of shopping with the girls: salmon caesar salads, diet coke with lemon, watching Becki cheer, movies in the basement, Easter at the grandparents, Thanksgiving with their relatives, and dinner at The American.

Thanksgiving 1999

We'd only been dating about a year when the breast cancer came back.  If memory serves, (Becki and Greg, if you read this *please* correct any of my inaccuracies caused by fuzzy memory) she was first diagnosed when Greg was 15, we dated when we were 19-21 if my math & memory are correct, so it reared it's ugly head again when he was 20 or so.  I remember thinking that I had #absolutely*no*idea what to do or how to handle the news when he told me, so I apologize profusely for whatever memory you have of that moment if it was less than supportive.  

David, Me, Maggie

Over the course of time I watched what the cancer did to her.  While I never attended a treatment of hers, she did talk about them with me (usually while I massaged her feet *laugh* or when we got our nails done) and I saw what they did to her.  She was fantastically brave and incredibly strong to endure the treatment course they had her on.  Now in hindsight having gone through my *own* battle with the stupid disease do I really understand what that was doing to her.  How she must have felt.  How tired and sick she must have been, more so than me I'm sure as hers was a more aggressive cancer that metastisized as ovarian cancer and ultimately took her life 11 years ago.  

Yet she still maintained that wonderful smile, grace, and loving warmth that radiated from her in palpable waves and touched everyone who crossed her path.  


When she went into the hospital it was #surreal.  She was so small in that big bed, surrounded by even larger bouquets of flowers.  #MenorahHospital.  I could still drive that route in my sleep I bet, and I'd wager my feet would find their way to the room she was in.  This became the reason I hated hospitals.  The smell, the food, the lights, and the sounds.  Passing rooms with doors ajar to reveal people just laying there looking dead or moaning with pain.  Doctor's and nurses checking orders and administering pain meds to ease the discomfort.  People smiling sympathetically at you, and you at them, as you pass each other in the hallway.  The universal understanding of a wounded soul grappling with the knowledge that a loved one either just had major surgery or is about to pass from their life forever.  

Mastectomy Oct. 15th, 2010

I'm better about it now having been in and out of one quite a bit during my own journey, but I still don't like them.  






Ultimately the cancer won, and Maggie became the true angel we all knew her to be on earth.  The funeral was beautiful and the outpouring of love was tremendous.  I'll never forget riding in the car with Greg and Becki, looking back at the line of cars that stretched so far it was through an intersection and stopping traffic.  "Just like mom to cause a ruckus" was Becki's retort and we all laughed. #Itwastrue. 

A couple of days later It was Valentine's Day and it just didn't seem important.  I don't even remember what happened.  Greg and I probably went out to dinner and I probably got upset when I didn't get my fantasy flowers or a card, or whatever.  Or maybe he gave me flowers and a card, I have no idea because it wasn't important.  What was important was the fact that she was gone and the world had lost a great woman.  
 

Life continued and we had to go with it.  Greg and I went our separate ways, Becki graduated from HS, Greg and I graduated from college, he started moving around, I got married, then Becki got married.  Her wedding was one of the most touching, heartfelt and beautiful weddings I have ever been too.  Tim and I had been married for about 6 months at the time of Becki's wedding and I hadn't seen Greg for quite a few years.  I was shocked to see him with a head full of hair!  It's a good look for him ;)  Anyways, after an emotionally charged ceremony, we went on over to the OP Convention Center for the beautiful reception.  The place was decked out in fancy centerpieces, soft lighting, a dance floor and DJ, and of course an open bar (Thanks David!). 

Becki and Jeff

The reception followed the same general format that most do.  Arrival and announcement of bridal party and the newly married couple.  Some greetings and cheers, then usually food followed by the obligatory dances except they did one better.  Instead of the traditional bridal party dance, Becki instead spoke of her mom and how while she wished that she could be there she knew she was watching from above, and nothing would make her more happy than to have anyone and everyone who had been touched by her in their life to come celebrate that life on the dance floor to Maggie's favorite song, one that she said was written for her *laugh* "Maggie May" by Rod Stewart.  I danced with Greg and celebrated not only Becki's marriage to a wonderful man, but the life of a wonderful woman who had touched the lives of many.




Over the years I have visited her grave whenever I feel the need to feel her presence and hear her voice.  Never did I need that more than the day I was diagnosed with #breastcancer.  Shortly after Tim arrived home to hold me and share in our life shifting news, I felt the need to go for a drive.  I just wanted to be alone with my thoughts and the breeze in the windows.  I had no idea where I was headed, or when I'd be back, but Tim understood so with a hug and a kiss he watched me go.  I got in the car and pulled out of the drive. 

I hit the highway with nothing but the sound of the wind through the windows as it dried the tears on my cheeks.  I turned onto 435South with no particular destination in mind as I stared out the window trying to wrap my brain around the weight of the news I had just been given.  Before I knew it I was crossing into Kansas and was headed towards the cemetary.  I felt instinct take over as I drove towards her grave and got out of the car; there on the rise, under the pine tree by the chime tower she lays.  I brushed the grass off her headstone, and moved the pine cones out of the way so I could sit down next to her.  Resting my head on my knees I let go and let the rest of the tears flow.  I talked to her in my head and asked her to give me the strength, grace, and courage needed to get through this.  I also requested that she watch over me like never before and just like Becki, she did me one better.  

She sent Sue.  

First Chemo

On the day of my very first chemo, Sue was my nurse.  She walked into my cube and over to the sink to wash her hands while introducing herself.  I was instantly calmed by her voice, the motherly inflection, the soft tones.  Then she turned around and I got to see her face.  I swear on my life it was Maggie looking back at me.  She was a little shorter, and the hair was different but it was #her.  For the briefest of seconds that was like an eternity to me I saw that familiar smile and crinkle at the eyes that said "Everything is going to be all right, I'm here."  Then Sue began explaining the whole process from oral meds to chemo drugs, but then she touched my arm and #Maggiewasback.  The soft fingertips, perfectly manicured and sculpted fingernails painted in a soft pinky blush.  The diamond ring, and gold bracelets.  I never felt the needle go in.  I looked up into her face and saw the glimmer of a gold necklace as she winked at me, then she was gone but Sue was still there.

I will always be eternally grateful to Maggie and to Sue for getting me through my chemo.  Even though I didn't have Sue for every treatment, she always stopped by, and really I wouldn't have wanted to hog her all to myself.  Maggie gave me the strength needed to get through it and was there at the very first one, which was the scariest.  She needed to do the same for others, as did Sue.
 

ziamond.com

So on this Valentine's eve, I implore you to look past the social view of what this holiday is supposed to look like.  Instead of wanting expensive flowers, gifts, or dinners from your loved ones, why not want what they are already giving you?  Sure I would love some flowers and a beautiful card from Tim but if I don't get them, or if they're not what my fantasy has built them up to be that's okay because you know what?  He's already the best Valentine I could ever have, want, or need and he's already given me Valentine's gifts a million times over.  With every hug, kiss, laundry pile that's folded, dishwasher that gets started, back rub given, trash taken out, games of ball played and baths given to the dogs, and every other little day to day thing he does that tells me he loves me is my Valentine enough.  I can never have a bad Valentine's day because losing Maggie 11 years ago made me see what's really important about that holiday...the people that you love.    


 Happy Valentine's Day!


         

To My "OGV"...My Original Valentine

On this Valentine's Day I felt it was appropriate to profess my love for someone who is not my husband.  No, I'm not talking about some hidden boyfriend, I'm talking about my "OGV", my Dad, my Original Valentine.

Every little girl has a man constantly by her side as she travels through this life, her father.  I was lucky enough to grow up with both of my parents in the same house (married 47 years and still going strong), and I was lucky enough to grow up with a father who cared for and loved and supported my sisters and I every single minute of every single day.

I vividly remember one Valentine's morning in our house, I was maybe 7 or 8 at the time.  My parents, mom especially, would go all out for breakfast on Vday, St. Pat's Day, Easter, etc.  Red oatmeal with strawberries in a white bowl sitting on top of a red paper heart with a doily.  Conversation hearts scattered across the table, cards on each of our plates, chocolate tied up in little bags, and a little gift for each of us.  I remember my dad coming into the kitchen, as mom was hurriedly trying to get us all to eat so we could get to school on time, with a bag full of surprises and an armful of flowers for my mom and us girls.  After he gave mom and my two sisters their gifts and flowers, he squatted down in front of me and presented me with my first Valentine's Day flowers (at least that I remember ;).  I can remember the scene as if it were yesterday; I thought my heart would burst with love for my father, as I'm sure his was bursting with love for me.

As I get older with each passing year, I understand his love and concern for me even more because now the tables are turning and it's becoming MY turn to take care of my original Valentine, my daddy.  It's the nature of the beast, the way the world works.  They take care of us as we grow from infancy to adulthood, then we in turn take care of our parents as they descend into "old age"...that's such a horrible phrase but it's true isn't it?  

I remember the day with perfect clarity that I was told my dad has diabetes.  This was the first chink in his armor, the first tear in his superman cape, the first time I looked at him through the eyes of an adult and saw the reality that my daddy, my valentine, was a human being and not some superhero who would kiss my scraped knee and make the world better with his smile.  After my mom told me the news I went out into the living room to find him asleep in his recliner with his beloved Chigger in his lap, and I was struck at how my childhood glasses were ripped off my face and I saw how, in the blink of an eye, my dad had aged, and he seemed incredibly frail to me at that moment.

As life would have it, we all proceeded along the course that has been plotted out for us.  I was finishing up college, dating my future husband, planning our wedding, obtaining my first job and generally just coasting along in life thinking all was hunky dory.  I hadn't given the diabetes a second thought, and had pushed from my mind the fact that *both* my parents were getting older and more problems were cropping up each day.  Mom's back surgery, dad's cartroid arteries had to be cleaned out, both of them had to start wearing special shoes, their eyes were changing where driving at night isn't such a good option anymore (that must be incredibly frustrating).

But there were great times as well, along the way.  The first grandchild, my nephew, was brought into our lives and I have had the chance to witness my dad be a *Dad* again.  They laugh and play, kiss and hug, and of course "TB" gets taught a lesson or two from ol' "Nampa" along the way.  I hope that my father's diabetes doesn't get out of control because I really hope he gets to see TB graduate from high school  and get married, but if we don't *all* own up to the fact that the boogeyman is under the bed....well....you just never know what can happen.  

But after a while the other shoe has to drop doesn't it.  

All of our lives came to a crashing halt when first mom was diagnosed with breast cancer, then me a little over a year later.  I can only imagine what that did to my dad.  I remember calling them after I had gone into the ugly cry over the phone with Julie.  Dad answered as mom was driving and I remember him laughing and saying "This is funny.  I have a daughter in each ear" (Julie was on his phone, I was on mom's) *laugh*.  Then I had to sucker punch him in the stomach because the words "Daddy it's breast cancer" had to leave my mouth and change our lives forever.  http://stoutspontaneousevolution.blogspot.com/2010/05/how-it-all-started.html  I remember being sucked into the vortex of time and feeling like I was five years old again, afraid of ET in my closet, calling out for my superman in the middle of the night to come and chase the boogeyman away and make me feel safe. 

The father's day right after my first chemo I wrote a poem for my dad about how he was helping me realize that cancer would not beat me, or us.  I wish to take a moment to remind him of what he said to me when the boogeyman was under my bed.

A little girl needs her daddy

To give her a father’s love

To soothe her when she’s hurt,

And keep her safe from harm.

A girl needs her dad

To show her a man who’s good,

To help her make right choices,

As only a father could.

A woman needs her father

To diligently be aware,

He’ll always be there for her

To sustain her and to care.

I love you because you're my father,

But you're really so much more;

You're a guide and a companion;

My first shining knight with his mighty sword.

You pay attention to me;

and listen to what I say.

You pass on words of wisdom,

That help me along my way.

When trouble rears its ugly head,

You always have a plan.

You flex your mighty muscles and tell me that

“Yes in fact you can!”

You’ve been all these things and more to me,

And I hope that you can see

How much I treasure you;

You mean everything to me.

So on this Valentine's day I just want to say that I love you more than you'll ever know, just as your love for me is beyond my perception.  We all go through rough times, and we all have our own demons to fight and that's okay because we *WILL* win.  Let me be your knight in shining armor (a girl can be a knight in this day and age right:), your superwoman with her cape, your boogeyman chaser.  Whatever you need, whenever you need it is only a phone call, text, or email away.  There's nothing I wouldn't do for you as you have done for me.  

I'm with you every step of the way so let's put on some bada$$ shoes and kick some serious rear.  

  Happy Valentine's Day Daddy!  I love you!