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My Dad is my rock of gibraltar. He's just the greatest guy. He can be surly and impatient and a stubborn cuss, but beneath and below all of that is this sweet person who doesn't always know how to show it because he was raised in a place and time when it wasn't okay for a man to be "sweet" and show it, but I know he'd do anything for me, and I'd do anything for him.
When I was about thirteen and skinny and flat-chested all pimply with thick glasses and this guy I liked had rejected me, he looked me right in the eye when I was crying and said, "You have a pretty face and a kind heart. I promise you, someone will love you someday." And I believed him.
He made me show him that I could change a tire before he'd let me take my driver's test.
He's a born again, politically conservative, career big business guy, but he's spent his retirement years as the executive director of a charity that delivers food and clothes to people in need - and his spare time driving single moms to medical appointments for their children.
He was on To Tell the Truth twice because they needed someone with a Texas accent and he got the most votes as Lyndon Johnson's dog trainer and the creator of the World's best chile recipe, although he was just another business executive commuting to Manhattan everyday.
This is someone who would never even mention the word "sex" in front of me, but now he's got prostate cancer and talks to me about Depends (he tells me he's bought them just in case, but hasn't had to use them) and impotence.
What will I do when he's gone - I don't know. I can't stand to think about it. But he more than anyone else in my life has taught me what it means to "be there" for the people in my life.
Thanks for starting this thread. What a wonderful way to see out the year-paying homage to someone who's been everything to me.
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