I stood at the edge of the pool, shivering slightly in my pink polka-dot swimsuit. Splashing, shouting children filled the water, but I hesitated at the deep end. To a 4-year old a swimming pool can seem as vast as the Pacific Ocean. “C’mon, Cindy Sue,” my dad urged. “I’ll catch ya.” Squeezing my eyes shut and holding my breath, I took a leap of faith from the edge. My father caught me in his arms, just like he always did, because that’s what dads are supposed to do. I didn’t worry that my toes couldn’t touch the bottom. His did, and that’s all that mattered.