Happy Birthday, Dad.

I think that it is fairly safe to say that I have the best Dad. Ever. He's a dentist (and a passionate one), but you can't just define him by his profession. He is tough. He has dislocated many joints while mountain biking. He climbs mountains- on foot, snowmobile and motorcycle. Sometimes he hikes for hours in the mountains, and finding bear or moose poop is often the highlight of his day. He travels all over the world to lecture on dentistry (Taiwan next week- I'll miss not seeing him in NYC, but my Mom will be here). He raised seven kids to be smart, independent thinkers with fairly decent vocabularies (thanks to reading to us just about every night). He is compassionate, without broadcasting it to the world. He's an amazing writer. He writes books. Volumes of them. On everything. He has a passion for the scriptures (he spent years writing a commentary on the Book of Mormon). He's an adventurer, to say the least and he still keeps up with all of his kids like he was 18 himself (with TWO new hips, I might add). I'm pretty certain that everything he has ever done has been for the happiness of his family. Simply put, he has always been a really good dad. He always came to my piano & dance recitals, volleyball competitions and tennis matches. He typically brought a book with him, but I didn't mind that so much, because he was there. I don't think he has a favorite child - part of the reason he is such a good dad (he shows no favoritism). He'll stop by New York because he's in the area (Chicago, maybe?). He calls me every morning on his way to work, because the time difference works out so that it is the beginning of both of our days. It's nice that he thinks about me, even if we don't always have a lot of time to talk. He picked me up from my first university (an extremely liberal place my parents did not want me to be in lieu of BYU) after I decided that BYU was in fact the place for me to be, and never said "I told you so"- even after only one quarter of me being there. He let me make my decision and live with it, and it helped me grow. He exploded a Coke ALL over my car (as in, over the seats, ceiling, steering wheel... you get the point) during that drive home, and we laughed until we both had tears running down our cheeks. It's one of my favorite memories of us. My dad is brilliant. I'm sure most girls think this about their fathers, but he really is. He has taught me just about everything I know, and an additional number of things that I will likely never understand (I'm still trying to get through one of his favorite books- The Fabric of the Cosmos). I get a postcard from him just about every day. I have a shoe box full, because I cannot even think about throwing a single one away. He has absolutely meticulous handwriting and knows the answer to everything. I don't think I've ever heard him say "I don't know" (and he's not making these answers up). My dad has a ridiculous amount of character, evident in how he has stood up to various forms of adversity in his life. He has always been an example of good.

I really love my Dad. I hope he has a Happy Birthday.