Here’s to fu manchu mustaches and a childhood watching WWF twice a week. Here’s to that weird Hulk Hogan cardboard stand-up in your room and Saturdays at home mowing the lawn. Here’s to being there at every single cheerleading event, church performance, school performance, and important moment growing up. Here’s to golfing on Sundays. Here’s to listening out for the clanking sound of your truck, waiting for you to get home from work, to say goodnight. Here’s to watching NCIS together and talking about the characters like they were real people. Here’s to talking about real things, that are sometimes difficult, but being able to be honest and unafraid. Here’s to McRibs and Malted Milkshakes and Red Velvet Cake and Steaks on the grill. Here’s to coffee and cigarettes and cowboy boots on occasions that required dressing nice. Here’s to teaching me to drive and letting me teach you how to use the computer. Here’s to the man who taught me to be myself no matter what and told me it was okay to go after my dreams, no matter what they were and where they would take me. Even if it was far away. I miss you. I love you.