My dad grew up homeless, living in a truck under a bridge. I was born when he and mom were still in high school.
No man I’ve ever known or heard of has worked as hard as he did to provide for his fledgling family. The day he graduated high school, he enlisted in the navy, he studied ass his off, reading books by streetlight to prepare for the ASVAB, and got a high enough score to essentially pick whatever MOS he wanted. He chose nuclear chemistry. He was gone for months at a time on patrols maintaining the reactor aboard a nuclear submarine. When he got out, he worked whatever handy man jobs he could until he learned about a nuclear power plant nearby where we lived and when I was 14 or so, he got a job there as a chemist. He’s not what you’d call rich now, but certainly not poor anymore. He put my mom through school so she could do what she had always wanted but couldn’t due to raising us and just being poor. He was saddled with his own debt and couldn’t really help me with college, but did what he could. No man could ever be as supportive and loving as that man was to my mom, my brothers, and I. He never babied me, he was hard on me, because he wanted me to be able to persevere through anything the way he did, but never wanted me to actually HAVE to do it. I had to get an official job on my 16th birthday, but always had to work and do odd jobs around the neighborhood to learn how to earn what I wanted. But that man made sure I never went without what I needed, no matter what. And sometimes, “need” was quite flexible. Anytime I had any kind of problem, dad was right there to walk and talk me through it. It didn’t matter what it was, I’m his son and he viewed it as his absolute responsibility to help me work through anything. Sometimes that help took the form of “well that was fucking stupid, bet you won’t do that again” because sometimes a teenage boy needs to hear how retarded he’s being. There was nothing I wanted to do that he didn’t support me and try to help me as best as he could. Football? Coach dad is here to help me train and work out. Music? Dad is there to listen and offer critique on what techniques didn’t sound right and what sounded good even if he HATED my style of music (heavy metal). Even now, I’m a grown ass man, I’m 29 years old, I have lived on my own for almost a decade and in my free time I’m an amateur martial artist. There’s dad, supporting me in the crowd at my fights, talking to me about what he saw, what went well, what to improve. He played an instrumental role in helping to set up the proposal to my now fiancé, he helped pay my bills when I lost a job a few years ago, he is curating his house to accommodate for grandchildren and what we want when we come to visit. He never turns down an opportunity to be helpful and give to others. He rallied us and other men to take it upon ourselves to go out and rescue people from flooding during hurricane Harvey here in Texas.
My dad is #1 dad, and #1 man that we should all strive to be. There’s no question about it