Ariane
Daniel wasn't my biological father. But he took on the job when I was three and was father to me in every aspect of the word: mentor, friend, and above all, a fierce protector.
He passed away on October 2nd after a long battle with cancer. I made it down to Florida in time to tell him how much I love him and hold his hand. He broke through the haze a few times to say, "I love you, Ariane" and "Tell Ariane I love her." He passed away just a couple hours later.
My dad used to say that of all the wild, crazy things he'd done in his life, his best times were with me. A goofy kid who he used to call 'shadow' because I followed him everywhere. So many of my best memories are with him, too: Singing (horribly off-key) at the top of our lungs in his old truck (which we dubbed 'Wonder Truck'), chocolate croissants at Stella's Bakery before school, his wild stories, jokes and wicked sense of humor. Not many kids get to 'choose' their dad, and I couldn't have gotten a better one.
He had some epic wins on the battlefield, but I think we always knew the fight with cancer wasn't a war we were going to win. Although it feels too brief now, my mom and I had 30 terrific years with him and he will always be in our hearts. His oil paintings on the walls at home, beautiful tables and cabinets he created, stunning garden he planned and nurtured are all still here to surround us like a big hug.
Ariane