I've seen him get knocked down and I've seen him pick himself back up with all the dignity and honor he could muster. He sees things in black and white, right and wrong. He believes in responsibilites, commitment and being reasonable.
He's not perfect. Who among us is? But, he'd never lie to you about who he is. He might not tell you how he's feeling, well, ever. But, those feelings are there. And, in his own way he tries to share them with me. No matter how he's shown it, I know he's proud of me, I know he loves me and I know he would fight to the death for me.
When I talk to my dad on the phone, I have a permanent smile on my face for a good thirty minutes after. He makes me laugh. He makes me happy. He lives 550 miles away so, because I don't have a private airplane (Shawn, if you're listening, I don't think this is an unreasonable request), I don't get to see him nearly as much as I would like. But, when I do, it's like we've never been apart. He's always my dad.
Because of the family we are, right or wrong, we don't say these things out loud to each other. We're not a very touchy-feely people. We're horrible communicators. That's probably a little sad, but it's who we are and a leopard can't change its spots. But, I can say it loud and proud from the quiet, safe, unemotional keyboard of my computer - so I will. I love my dad. He's the greatest.