Dad used to stroll me through the woods of Virginia when I was just a few months old. 

I'm in a forest, sitting in a stroller and being pushed down a dirt path. The trees are tall and the leaves are green. It's all a little blurry. Is this is a memory? Or have I made this image up in my head based on what my dad told me? Either way, I know it's real. 

Dad's bedtime stories were always so vivid and evocative. I'd always ask for a "funny AND magical story!" and never a scary one. He had different voices for each of the characters, and he made up all sorts of plot twists on the spot. His face lit up the room. I would laugh so hard and for so long, then beg for more. The Muddy Monster chased us for days. Alexandria Lynn and Ralph Patrick taught us how to carry out some seriously clever pranks. I saw lots of colors. I saw a world of possibilities. 

He says that because he sang me to sleep when I was a baby, that's why I sing now. He likes to think that he taught me everything I know about singing. (In reality, he taught me everything I know about terrible singing. I AM JUST KIDDING DAD. I LOVE YOU.)

He was the best at giving underdogs--(is that what they're called??)--on the swing. Truly, I'd go FLYING. He probably got tired of pushing me on the swing, but never once did I hear him complain. About anything. Ever.

Dad helped me with math from when I was a young girl, even when I yelled at him in frustration and cried. His patience is undying and unmatched.

He made me feel like I was capable of someday taking calculus. I didn't ever take it, but he believed in me.

Not gonna lie, Dad has made me fear for his life a couple of times. Like when we were at Lake Powell one year. While I was in a boat on the water, I saw him in the form of a little white dot trying to reach the very top of a red rock cliff . At the end of the steep incline, a sheer rock wall stretched straight up, and from my view there was no way to go any higher. He was not going to leave without reaching the top, though. There was no way. If my dad decides to try to accomplish something, he just does. It looked so dangerous, though! My uncle assured me it was impossible for him to make it to the top, and that eased my conscience a bit. Next thing I know, however, the little white dot was AT THE TOP of the cliff. I should have known.

He took me and a few of our cousins up there later in the week. We didn't bring enough water. I practically got heat stroke on the way down, and I'm already a slow hiker. He stayed with me the whole time and made certain that I got to the bottom of the cliff in one piece.

He always gives everything to me and my siblings. His time, his devotion, his loving heart. He works every day for us. He affectionately kisses my mom when he comes home. He treats her with so much respect, and always tells us to respect her. I look at him and see an incredible husband...I once told Mom that I wanted to marry him. (That's weird, I know, but I was quite young, okay?) Now I know that if I can find someone half as good as my dad, I'll be one lucky lady.

I asked Gabby and Aaron to send me their favorite memories/qualities of our dad. 

Aaron:

I also asked Nathanael what he likes about Dad, and he said "I love him," in his cute little voice. Ah, I'm obsessed with his cute little voice. I wish y'all could hear it now. 

Anyway. The point is. We love Aaron Love Sr. He's pretty much the coolest guy out there. Duh. He was voted "best legs" in high school. Sorry, Dad, I hope that doesn't embarrass you too much.

Happy Birthday to the best man I know. 

Love,

Alessia