80 Years!

My dad is my hero.  March 21, 1935 - That's the day he was born.  He always tells the story of how he was put in a teacup and set near the oven to stay warm.  (I never really believed him.)  He was the youngest of six, a surprise to his parents as they were expecting at the same time his older sister was. 

I can only imagine being a child growing up during the great depression.  His family had survived and he was a blessing to them.  Perhaps that's why my dad is so optimistic and he has great faith. After marrying my mom, fathering eight children (five girls and three boys), losing both of his parents and enduring a house fire that displaced them for three months, all before he was 40, my father's faith only grew stronger.  

My dad was a bread man - he drove a Hostess/Wonder truck delivering cakes to stores on his route. He woke up at 4 in the morning and got home before 6 p.m. in time for dinner.  He had Wednesdays and Sundays off.  He provided a Catholic education to his children.  We never really knew of the great sacrifices he made as he supported us all through our ups and downs.  It was his faith that saw him through.  

My dad taught me how to live through example.  I watched him show great joy in the accomplishments of his children and great love for my mom.  His joy was genuine in the birth of each grandchild and great-grandchild and his grief tremendous for his daughter Barb. He demonstrated great care for my mother in the last years of her life. And the loss of her, his wife of over 50 years was endured by all of us and survivable by the living faith in a loving God that my dad showed us.  

Always the optimist, my dad found love and joy again.  He is my hero.  I love you Dad and have a very happy 80th birthday.  May you and Pat share many more birthdays together!