My father is...well, himself. What you see is what you get. He loves with his whole heart. He is temperamental and moody and can be as ornery as one sixty plus year old man can. He is my dad. He has been through his own form of hell, pain, loss, hurt and fear, he would say, I suppose we all have, in some form or another. He says restrant when talking of a place to go out and eat. His favorite phrase is “there. you.go.” for just about anything that he agrees with and that he feels he should comment. Once you have been around him for any length of time you somehow adopt said phrase and use it as well. He helps strangers. When I was a child people said I was his spitting image, of that I was proud. After thirty years of watching my mom, myself and my sisters head off to church every Sunday, he now joins my mom each Sunday for mass. He loves to be outdoors. He can fix anything. His ability as an artist is his true gift, a gift he keeps close to his heart and shares only with family.
My daughter will call him Papa, as do all of his grandchildren. He makes duck sounds and vairous whistles to make my girl laugh, smile and give him attention. He gives strong hugs. He is honest even when it hurts, you or him. Without his love I am not sure where I would be.
Saturday is his birthday. No tricks or treats, just my memories and wishing him a happy day.
Love you dad, happy early birthday.
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