Hero.

I’ve never been saved from a burning building, thank god, but I have a hero.

I never flash signals to the sky, but he always comes.

I never wonder about the man behind the mask, because my hero never hides any part of himself.

In fact, (to borrow a line from a friend) he’s a man who wears his heart on his sleeve, and on his jeans; in his socks, and as a hat…. 

I never ask him a question he can’t answer.

I never have a problem he can’t fix.

I never tell a joke that doesn’t make him laugh.

I never make a mistake he doesn’t forgive.

He’s a shape-shifter, my hero. Teacher at times, and sometimes best friend. He’s my coach and my biggest fan.

He’s the kind of hero who shows up however I need him, to hold me when I’m hurting, calm me when I’m mad, celebrate when I’m excited, or just to spend time having fun.

Maybe the *best* thing about my hero, is that he’s not only mine. In my life, I’ve watched him be a hero to hundreds. There has never been anyone he doesn’t have time for; no one he can’t help. He makes everyone feel special, everyone feel seen. He makes most people laugh; unless he’s playing music, and then he makes them cry.

He couldn’t tell you what it means, but my hero lives his life in Namaste, he sees the best ofeveryone. And he gives them his best in return.

In some traditions, they say you pick your parents before conception. If that’s the case, choosing this family was the best decision i’ve ever made.