Happy Birthday Dad!

I wanted to wish my Dad a happy birthday, a couple of days late.... My Dad was certainly the tough, athletic, macho fire fighter growing up, but he was also the Dad that let us paint his nails and shave designs into his leg hair (as long as it wasn't basketball season when he needed to wear gym shorts). I love so many things about him, but a couple of things stand out in my mind. My Dad is someone you can count on. His yes is yes, his no is no, if he says he'll be somewhere, help you out, pitch in - then you can bet he will. Even if it's a sacrifice, even if it's inconvenient, he's a man of his word and I hope to be like that (except for the man part). Reliable, selfless, dependable. Both of my parents are that way, they don't live their life based on what's convenient for them, or what's "best for us", they really try to be there for other people. My Dad is also the hardest worker I know, and he expected that from his kids. We didn't get handed anything, we worked for it and it made us appreciate things that much more. By the time I was 12 I had saved a thousand dollars to buy my first horse, and I worked for every penny of it - babysitting, cleaning stalls at the stable, stacking wood at Grandpa's, moving rocks for Grandma. I want our kids to learn the value of earning things on their own, even though sometimes it's so easy to indulge them. Another thing I love about my Dad, and the most important, is that he doesn't put up with my crap. It's comforting to know I have someone in my life that calls me on stuff when I need it, but also knows when I just need a soft place to fall. He can call and simply ask "how are you Sugar?" and have me in tears, he's got me pegged for sure. I can count on him to be real with me and to always point me to the Lord and my relationship with Him when I need answers. Now I'm not saying that there aren't times I just want him to tell me how terrible it is or how right I am, but in reality, I really don't want that. I want to hear the truth, even if it hurts. Now there are a few other things my Dad has taught me that may seem a little less important - how to bait a hook with a live grasshopper so it doesn't fall off on the first cast, how to gut a fish, that eating Skittles and drinking a Coke are a must before a spitting contest, that if you're going to rough house you can't cry unless you're bleeding. All good stuff. I love you Daddy, you are my rock.

I think Todd would like to add that he thinks you're great too, but it really ticks him off that you still only have a handful of gray hair, even at your advanced age.