He is sincerely and unapologetically weird.
He raised me to truly believe that all men are pigs, and that he and I were the only intelligent sane people on the planet.
He was into The Muppets, Captain Crunch, Beast Master, GI Joe, and McDonalds until I was maybe 12 or 13.
I have pictures of him jousting in full chain mail.
He is a scientist, a biologist/zoologist, but he REALLY wants to be an exobiologist...when he grows up. Meaning, he wants to study alien life forms...
He doesn't eat eggs because it is a "single cell" and that skeeves him out.
He doesn't eat pork either, but he isn't jewish.
He always made sure he knew EXACTLY what I wanted for Christmas or birthdays, and he never made fun of me when I wanted something weird or out of character.
He never said an unkind word about my mother, and constantly praised her to me for the job she was doing.
When I got a little older, he took me to dinner with my boyfriend(s) and was always kind and courteous, treating us both like adults even though we were merely children.
When I told him I was getting married, he insisted on paying for the wedding and was truly generous at every step.
When I am with him, I am nervous and unsure, (an odd state for me!) reverting back to my childhood role of Daddy's little girl. Much I have done in life was done with the greater motivation of earning his approval. I now understand that I had it all along, no matter what I did.
There is so much I don't know about him, about his past, his pains and successes. And there is so much of me he has never seen, but I know he wishes he could.
Our birthdays are a mere two days apart, yet we have never to my memory celebrated them together. This year, and every year hereafter, I will celebrate my Dad. The man to whom I owe my brown eyes. The man to whom I owe my sick sense of humor. I love you Daddy. Happy Birthday!
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