My Hero, My Friend, My Living Father

When I met him, I knew we'd get along.

He and I already had so much in common.

We both love to talk about food for days.

We both love to watch comedies.

We both love the holidays.

We both love scented candles.

And we both love his son.

I've always loved spending time with him.

When I met him, I didn't know that in life he was going to become my second wing-man. 

That he'd bail me out when I locked my keys out of my car...again.

That he'd bring by weekly meals.

That he'd even make food for me and my friends' gatherings.

That he'd go with me to my kid's swim lessons and doctor's appointments.

That he'd pay attention to everything my family needs and make sure that those needs are satisfied.

That he'd care for my kids and say "do your yoga gurl, it's important."

That he'd care for my kids while I had the flu.

That he'd nurture my dying dad. That he'd wait with me while I paced in the living room watching me watch my dad prepare to leave. That he'd check my dad's final blood pressure and grip my family through that vulnerable wind.

That he'd listen to me every...single...day for sixteen years.

That he and my daughter would have regular baking and shopping rituals.

That he'd take my son to therapy, pick him up from school, and bring him his favorite foods.

That he'd obsess over and fight for our families health...every....single...day.

That he'd be willing to struggle and succeed WITH us.

I am beyond lucky to have Sergio Ochoa, my hero, my friend, my living father. 

I love you and I only hope that I can become the human you are.