Americo, just like America except with an “o” at the end, is my dad’s name, and it is as unique as he is!
My first real memory of my dad was when I was two years old and my Mom, my brothers and I returned, by train, from visiting my grandmother in Florida. When the train came to a complete stop, I saw my Dad’s face outside the window I was sitting by, blowing welcome home kisses our way. He had…
My Dad! Two words that say so much about what an incredible man and father he is.
My first real memory of him was when I was two years old and my Mom, my brothers and I returned, by train, from visiting my grandmother in Florida. When the train came to a complete stop, I saw my Dad’s face outside the window I was sitting by, blowing welcome home kisses my way. How did he do that at just the right moment? I thought he was so magical!
My dad taught me how to ride a two wheeler when I was…