Dad

In 1994, a Swiss survey showed that the number one factor that determines whether a child will grow up to be a regular churchgoer is whether or not their father attended church regularly.  That little factoid helps to illustrate the powerful effect fathers have on their children, and shows once again that I am not the "self-educated" man I thought I was.  As with Mom, I stand on the shoulders of Dad.

Dad is an honest, diligent, hardworking man.  As the above paragraph suggests, he is a regular church attender and church attendance was as much a part of our family culture as three square meals a day.  Dad is just as dependable as an employee (something I mistakenly took for granted as a given because of him.)  If he was ever late for work, I sure didn't know about it.

Dad worked as a greenskeeper at a local golf course while I was in elementary school.  I remember going out and helping him on various tasks, from pulling water sprinklers at night to driving the cart that picks up range balls at the driving range.  There's something really cool about getting to help your dad with his job that often just isn't possible due to the nature of different jobs; I'm glad I had the opportunity to help Dad growing up.

Dad was always my biggest fan.  He never missed any of my athletic activities except for one, when he was in the hospital with a broken back after a tree fell on him.  Apparently the first thing he asked of our pastor when he came to see him shortly thereafter was that he keep the stats for the basketball game I was supposed to play the next night.  I went and played my heart out for Dad the next night and had the best statistical game of my junior high career (a friend thankfully recorded the game so Dad could see it).

He was also a strict disciplinarian.  I am told, and do not have a hard time believing, that I was a very strong willed toddler.  My will met its match in Dad, and by the time I was old enough to really remember things, I understood that the momentary gratification of disobeying was not worth the subsequent consequences following swiftly behind (there's a pun in there if you wish to pursue it), a lesson I am certain authority figures at school and church appreciated my Dad providing me before being placed under their tutelage.

Most importantly by far was the love he provides.  "I love you," the phrase stereotypically most difficult for the stoic Midwestern man to utter, is not a difficult one for Dad, nor is "I'm proud of you."  When Alex and I come to visit, he is there with a ready hug, and I know he cares deeply about us and our well being.  In the book series "Clifford the Big Red Dog,"  Clifford was a runt, but because of the love of Emily Elizabeth (his owner), he grew to be as large as a house.  Well, I'm 6'6"; which gives testimony to the physical provision of Mom and Dad.  Had their love the same effect as Emily Elizabeth's, I'd be tossing Paul Bunyan around like a rag doll.  Omnia Vincit Amour.

I'm the small one in all the pictures except the last.