I wrote this back in 2007…and it’s still true today. I love you Dad, and may your Father’s Day be a great one!

Why do I love my Dad? Hmmm…that’s a tough one. Maybe it would be easier to explain why I don’t love my Dad.

I don’t love my Dad because he gives me everything I’ve ever wanted. Although, truthfully, he probably would if he could. What he did give me was the ability to appreciate all that I have. He also gave me the wisdom to know the difference between what I want and what I need…a lesson not taught nearly enough these days.

I don’t love my Dad because he took me on vacation every summer. Actually, we hardly ever traveled anywhere as a family, especially not to “touristy” locations. Instead, he instilled in me the value of what is here at home. We went fishing as often as possible, sometimes getting up before the sun rose and staying fishing all night. (You can’t quit if the fish are biting!) I learned how to bait my own hook by the time I could walk and learned how to tie a line while learning to tie my shoes. He taught me that being a girl didn’t mean you had to sit back and let the boys do all the fun stuff.

I don’t love my Dad because he bought me a new vehicle as soon as I got my license. In fact, the day I got my license my Dad drove me to the exam and then, after I passed and had my new license in my hand, he drove me home. I guess he wasn’t quite ready to let go of the wheel yet. He didn’t buy me a new vehicle, but he did buy an old Pontiac Phoenix that was definitely a learner car. Boy, are those some memories!

I don’t love my Dad because he went to every activity I was in. My Dad worked long, hard hours and when I was growing up, I knew not to expect him at many of my programs, games, etc., whatever it may be. At first I was hurt, thinking that I was missing out on having my Dad there, taking snapshots or filming those moments, but then one day I overheard my Dad talking to a friend about us kids. The amount of happiness and pride in his voice was overwhelming. That’s when I realized that Dad didn’t skip our activities because he didn’t care…it was more because he was so anxious to see us succeed that he couldn’t handle seeing us fail first-hand. He would listen to us tell our stories about our games, programs, tests, etc., then repeat them to whomever would listen, as if he had been standing right next to us.

I don’t love my Dad because he was a stern man. My Dad is actually a certifiable softy. I’ll be in trouble if he reads this, but my Dad is a crier. His heart, and a weak one at that, is the size of Texas. He tears up at Christmas, no matter what we give him. His eyes glistened at our weddings. He makes sure he brings a handkerchief to funerals. He won’t even get close to the Hallmark Channel. I personally think the only reason he watches those fishing shows is because he knows they won’t be “tear-jerkers.” (Well, except for when the Big One gets away!)

I don’t love my Dad because he puts his family before all else. Actually, most anyone who knows my Dad is treated as family, so that one may not quite be true. I guess as family, we don’t get special treatment. It’s just the way Dad handles everything. If you need something he has, he’ll give it to you. I have actually, literally, seen him give the shirt off his back. That’s just the type of man he is. Sometimes it’s annoying, but most times it just makes me even more proud of him.

I don’t love my Dad for any of these reasons. And yet, I love him for all of them.