My father can be both a hero, and a villian. In the same breath as he takes so much joy from winding me up to the degree of screeching hyena, he also would go to great lengths to ensure that I am safe. He loves to remind me of my many flawed traits, while he quietly appreciates my positive aspects. The child he once perceived me to be, can now stand before him as a grown woman. No longer simply a daughter, but a wife and a mother. For many years, I assumed the lack of outward expression of pride … Continue reading Four.