Ode to a Sandpaper Pappy (or, "My Father is Awesome")

There's nothing like being a parent to make you really reflect on your own childhood.  I don't have any illusions that I had the perfect childhood or the perfect family any more than I believe I was the perfect daughter.  But I have no doubts whatsoever that my parents always tried their hardest to do what they believed was the best for our family, and that they did (and continue to) love the bejeezus out of my brother and me. 

My father has always been one of the hardest working people I know.  Cripes, the man managed to get his masters while holding down a full time job and raising 2 kids while his wife also worked.  He had to travel a ton for work, but he still managed to be a very actively involved dad.

Daddy, thank you so much for the following (and lots more):

• When I was a teeny kid, and how you would lay down and let me crawl onto your belly and up to your propped knees so I could slide down your shins.  That was really fun.
• Making our backyard fort, complete with tire swing. 
• Always finding loose change for the ice cream truck.
• Taking me to the Young Writers' Conference at EWU.  That totally cultivated a hobby that I still enjoy today.
• Always making sure that no matter how much you traveled, that you could see at least one show of each of my various high school performances.
• Stacking me and the bro on your back when we would sled down the street.  Even though it was probably dangerous as all get out, it was sooooo much faster than going down by ourselves.
• Cultivating my love of horror movies and teaching me that being afraid is the biggest part of the fun (I'm referring specifically to watching The Shining at age 13, NOT The Exorcist at age 14 -- yikes)
• I owe you entirely for my taste in music.  You taught me to be open to new bands in addition to our old favorites, to love seeing bands live, and that pop music is an important part of American history.
• For being a cuddly daddy, who was never to busy to hold my hand or put an arm around me or give a scratchy mustache kiss.
• Every single early morning before you would fly out on a business trip, you would sneak into my room in the wee hours of morning to say you loved me before you left.  Me being a light sleeper, I'd wake about 85% pf the time, but I never minded.
• For teaching me the green eggs and ham theory -- that you have to try something before you can say that you don't like it.  Because of you, I love to eat.
• For teaching me the importance of knowing and remembering where you come from, and the idea of family as legacy, a linked chain with a shared history.
• Taking me to UCLA Scholar's Day, and subsequently convincing me to ditch the next day's scheduled USC visit to go to Disneyland instead.
• And for that Thanksgiving when I first came home after starting college, you invited me to enjoy a beer with you.  That completely stands out in my mind as the moment you first acknowledged me as an adult (even though I am so obviously still your little Weet Weet).  

You helped me to understand from a very early age what a father and a husband should be.  That I should have very high expectations of the man that I would marry.  Well, you were right and I do.  And I look at the amazing man that I chose to spend my life with, and the way he loves our daughter.  And weirdly, knowing that I have that makes me want to thank you, Daddy.