My dad is the coolest. He’s kind and hilarious (in this great unexpected, humble way). He’s gentle, but firm, and his hugs have the best squeeze I’ve found the world over. My favorite emails, thank you notes, and birthday cards are signed “I’m proud of you and I love you –Dad”. He always says it. Always. He asks if I have enough money for gas, if I need air in my tires, if I need window washer fluid. He has a garage full of very large and noisy power tools, and last spring he spent an entire weekend showing my sister MAH and I how to wield the power of these tools to cut out heart shaped welcome signs and put together cutting boards. He’s painted pink rooms and stenciled cats and hearts and who knows what other projects weren’t exactly his idea. He acts in patience when we work on a project in his garage together. (The most recent is the newest addition to my furniture family …a perfectly huge and simple project table/desk, which he whipped up in a weekend and spent two more weekends painting with me.) He doesn’t need me, at all, but he creates opportunities for me to be a part of the project just so we can hang out and because he loves me. His smile is wide and you can count on “Hello there, weary traveler.” when you stop by his house before or after any kind of adventure. His attic is full of boxes marked “Jennifer: stuffed animals, trophies, and journals”. Boxes he never asks me to throw out. He visits my house and says, “This place is cute.” I beam. He prays for wisdom and protection to surround me. He forgives my ignorance and pride and at the end of the day, when you look over this list, it’s pretty clear, that my dad is the picture of God as Father embodied. And for that, I am forever grateful!