The Patriarch

I’ve never set out on a specific blog journey attempting to make a grown man cry before, but here goes nothin’.

This here’s my dad. Say hello, everyone.

Hi, Everyone!

He’s kind of amazing.

Huggles

He somehow managed to survive a house full of girls – he and my brother must have secretly banded forces, strengthened by shared solitude and testosterone, while the rest of us girls were busy fighting over the bathroom.

Outnumbered

See? Fortunately, my parents stopped making kids. A man can only be wrapped around so many fingers.

Today, ladies and gentlemen, marks the day of his birth, some sixty-odd years ago. Deitrich Bonhoeffer once said that a patriarch is “the righteous man who lives for the next generation.” I have yet to meet, and to know, anyone who fits that quotable any better than my dad.

My father has worked his entire adult life to be able to give, and to give heartily, to his children and, now, his grandchildren. If there was just one word to sum up the whole of his character it would be Generosity.

No one is more generous with his time, money, esteem, and attention than my dad. Despite the long hours and, at times, multiple jobs he took, we could always welcomingly bounce into his office covered in glitter and noise and command his attention. Even today, as founder and CEO of a ridiculously successful small business, he will come, portable workspace in hand, and join my son for Grandparents’ Day.

It is literally impossible to be able to fill just one post about how awesome my dad is, so here’s just a paragraph, as succinct as I can make it. Feel free to join in.

My dad : is kind, generous, understanding, wise, patient, intelligent, hardworking, uncompromising, steadfast, faithful, dependable, trustworthy, loyal, witty, humble, quiet, gentle, successful, eloquent, slow to anger, quick to forgiveness, a devout Christian, has a hearty laugh, loves golf, smells like Brut, has stocked my freezer with ice cream, will always share my dessert even if he insists he’s not hungry, is a retired Air Force veteran, will almost always order the seafood entree when we go out to eat, will always pick up the check no matter where we go or what we’re buying, has a secret stash of peanut M&M’s in his office, is almost as proud of his sons- and daughter-in-law as he is with his own children, is a USC Trojans fan, and (unfortunately) reads Stuart Woods books. And is the person you can most soundly count on. Forever.

My dad is the best.

Happy birthday, Daddy.