In Memory of Danny

Today is the four year anniversary since my father Danny passed away. He's been on my mind a lot today, and lately in general, and I wanted to write down a few memories I had of him.
He was above all, an artist, and most of all, an artist of life. He was amazing with several artistic mediums and was gifted at painting, drawing, photography, and sculpture. But his life was his ultimate masterpiece. He was in Costa Rica on archeological digs, and in Morocco, Spain and Italy traveling with my mom. He was mysteriously beating the slot machines in the Caribbean islands, and arriving at Easter Island on a canoe with a buddy, hoping not to get beheaded by the local tribal chief, who luckily for him, thought he was a God and treated him like a king.
He was always collecting things; cameras, foreign currency, stamps, Pre-Columbian figurines, and rocks, among other things. He liked panning for gold. He was a dreamer. He was somebody that could make friends with anybody, and if he was around, it was always a good time, because he'd be telling you a joke or singing you a folk song or sharing tales of his wild adventures. I think we've all lived vicariously through his stories, and still do. Although he had a checkered past and had done some time in jail (for starting a Porsche sting operation and smuggling goods in from Costa Rica,) he was one of the most friendly, loyal, and loving people you could ever meet. He was one of a kind and there's never going to be anyone else like him. Not having him around anymore is really tough. Although I may not have shown it enough, I loved him a lot.
I didn't see him that often, but when I did, his face lit up and he treated me like one of his favorite people in the world. He had that gift. He always made people feel special. He was so loved in our family and is greatly missed. He is gone, but will never be forgotten. I have a feeling that we will be telling stories about him for years to come.