His were the first arms to hold me with love; his the eyes that gazed at me with affection enough to fill the Universe. His were the lips that kissed my face a million times. His were the shoulders I wept on, his the fingers that wiped away my tears. His was the hand that helped me climb mountains, his the heart that taught me I could do anything I set myself to do.
A rolling stone gathers no moss- my bedrock, he was always there for me. Whenever I see Moss, I can feel the presence of My Father.