Thankful for my Dad

Today is my Dad's 60th birthday, so in honor of my father, today's thankful post is about him.  He is a wonderful father and an even more wonderful grandfather.  So proud....you can see it in his face, right?

He's one of the smartest men I know.  Growing up, he was my fix-it man.  I never quite understood what engineers did (and don't tell T, but I still don't...), but I knew he was super smart and could figure out anything, including my math homework.  He's been my strength as I've gone through some ups and downs in life, some tough times and some great times.  The poor guy has had to move me in and out of so many different dorms, apartments, etc., it's not even funny.  The guy moved all of my stuff into the dorm sophomore year all by himself because I had mono and could not lift anything.  And then went to the bookstore with me to buy and then carry all of my books up six flights of stairs.  That's a good man, there.  

I get my lack of patience from him, I know, but it does take a patient father to not completely go off when your youngest daughter hits parked car after parked car.  I still laugh thinking of the time I hit my third one and how upset I was, and he just shook his head saying "If you hit another one, I might have to get upset."

I get my sense of humor from him - that sick, dry, twisted sense of humor.  He introduced me to classics like Airplane! and Blazing Saddles at a young age, which I will always be forever grateful.  He's been my biggest cheerleader as I have gone through school, law school, and into the legal world.  He doesn't ever say it outwardly because our relationship isn't like that (no serious talks or anything) but he is proud, and I'm proud to be his daughter.

Before T came along, he was my strong person to lean on.  I took him to all of my scary doctor's appointments and tests.  When T couldn't come to an appointment during my pregnancy, he was there.  He was there when at nine months, my heart rate spiked and the cardiologist called in an emergency test.  He didn't act freaked out.  He just calmly went over to me, kissed me on the forehead and said "oh, I think everything will be just fine."  I could tell he was worried but he didn't want to act that way.

He's the guy who, just minutes before I walked into my c-section made up some excuse about needing to go get coffee so he could leave the room.  He won't admit it but I know that he couldn't bear to watch me go into surgery one more time, having flashbacks to when I was 4 months old.  

I can email him about anything.  He's the only one I let call me Lain.  He's probably the only father who laughs when his youngest daughter says something like "dammit, Dad" in response to a joke.  Hell, I have thought so much of his personality that I basically married someone who is exactly like him.  I do not joke.  Same name, same profession, same personality.  I married my father.  That's how much I admire him.  

He loves his family, especially his grand kids.  This was taken this past weekend at Buca when we celebrated his 60th birthday.  I absolutely love this picture.

He's a good dad, even though I don't tell that to him enough.  And I'm so very thankful to have him in my life.  He doesn't read this blog, but I'll still give a shout out to my pops - Happy birthday, Dad!  Love you!