one of the best memories i have of my dad was when i was about six or seven...my dad worked on the road, so he only came home every so often...i was at my grandparent's house for the weekend...i was sitting at the table in the kitchen with my back to the door...i was eating a piece of my grandma's famous (well, very well known throughout my hometown) apple pie...as i took a mouthful someone whispered into my ear from behind "can i have a bite?"...i thought it was my grandpap, so i repied with a snotty "no" and laughed...then i turned around and saw that it was my dad, all dirty and tired from work and driving to come see me...i squealed and hugged him as hard as i could...i remember having tears in my eyes because i was so happy to see him...it's amazing how things change...