My Dad

I have a nose that, by beauty pageant standards, would be considered... well, not even a contestant.

I do not remain in the dark about this painfully obvious fact.
I am well aware of the uneven curve of my nose.
The well-defined point at the tip of my nose.
My unsightly nose hair that never seems to stop growing.
I am acquainted with the bump on the bridge of my nose.
I've even made note of the length of my nose.

This list of observations might lead you to think that I'm unhappy about my nose.

I think it would be fair to say that I was, at one point. I cursed my nose everyday for most of my teen years.

I was unforgiving and relentless!

But I've recently come to the realization that I won't be escaping my nose anytime soon. And this doesn't chafe me as it once did.

You see, I got my nose from my Dad.

My Dad is a creative, intellegent, empathetic man.
He has a knack for finding things that are PERFECT for his collections.
My Dad is able to listen for hours about things that may seem mundane and still appear interested.
He has a natural talent for drawing and he's learned to make money doing it.
His looks have always belied his age.
He is dedicated to his faith and his family.

My brothers were fortunate enough to have most of these gifts and talents bestowed upon them. And while I was genetically lucky in some areas, there are several I missed out on.

That's why I am at peace with my nose.

I got it from my Dad. And I'll wear it, smack dab in the middle of my face, as a badge, proudly proclaiming-

I am my Father's daughter.