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Dad


Now that father’s day has come and gone, I can finally write — not because the calendar says so, but because I mean it.

My dad’s a real character. Everything about him proves that — his enormous musical talent, his corny sense of humor, his magician-like ability to create a masterpiece out of trash can lids, kazoos and power tools, his unending love for his bride.

He’s not a demonstrative man, not apt to give casual praise or deliver prepackaged sentiments just because it’s “time to.”

But he is very likely to look you in the eye, wait a beat so you know he really means it, and then say with voice breaking, “you did great” or “we’re proud of you” or “that was your best ever.”

He taught me about value, purpose, honesty, humility, pride, and perseverance.

He taught me to work hard and long, and to do it with passion.

He taught me that excellence is worth pursuing.

He taught me that heart is even more valuable than excellence.

He taught me never to settle, never to give up, never to walk away, never to assume I’ve got the whole picture or know the full story.

He taught me that whether I agree with someone or not, I still need to be able to put myself in their shoes — to see things from their perspective.

He taught me to pursue the “why” of everything, because knowing that “why” will supply all the motivation, inspiration, and tenacity I’ll ever need.

He taught me to see humor in the little things, and to laugh heartily, even when I’m alone.

He taught me to recognize beauty, irony, hypocrisy, and ignorance.

He taught me how to fail and still win. He taught me that a successful recovery is far more valuable than never making a mistake.

He taught me that forgiveness is the greatest expression of love.

He taught me how a man should love a woman, and how a husband should honor his wife.

He taught me that real men love God.

He’s not perfect, but he’s ok with that, and I am too.

It’s not father’s day, so now I can look him in the eye, wait a beat so he knows I really mean it, and say with voice breaking, “I love you dad.”


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