He could Light up a room with his smile, make the most horrific situation comfortable with his silly jokes, and he made friends everywhere he went with everyone he met.
He built a playground at my elementary school and helped with the carnival every year. He drove me to dance lessons, horseback riding lessons, suffered through countless dance recitals, went on a mission trip to Appalachia with my youth group when I didn't even go. He made us French toast and macaroni and cheese with hotdogs, watched cartoons with us, took care of us when we were sick. He cleaned the house and did laundry. He taught me to swim and took me on my first roller coaster ride. He let me cover his car with grateful dead stickers in my hippy phase. He drove me to Minnesota to spend time with my high school sweetheart. He held my hand at my wedding and told me to have fun, his motto in life. He took care of my mom when she got cancer, he took care of his own mother through her dementia and his dad through all of the crazy, all while smiling, selflessly giving himself to others.
He loved stupid movies like Napoleon Dynomite and probably asked at least 100 waitresses to bring him a "dang quesadilla" or some cool whip for dessert.
My Dad did with his heart more things in 56 years than most people who live to 100 could ever accomplish. I will miss him every day and truly hope I can be the kind of amazing role model to my children that he was to me.
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