This is just to say a very HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my Dad, Bill Lockwood, who tears up Whitestone Lake with the best darn rooster tails in the world, makes amazing pancakes of all shapes (giraffes, flowers, etc.) for me and my sisters, was patient enough to teach me how to play ice hockey, and accepted me as his own daughter even though we only met when I was… six? Eight? Who cares. I love this guy to bits.
Dad, whenever we’re back on the same continent I request that we shoot many pucks in the driveway. My slapshot is miserable and needs some fine-tuning.
Love you. Hope today is filled with tiny, beautiful moments.