On my way to the universities campus this morning I got to thinking about my fathers; my dad and my father-in-law.

Thinking about my dad and what I might do for him on Father's Day I opened the dust covered file box in my brain and started a random pulling out of memories. What I realized was that as far back as I can remember, about the age of 4, my father was a giver. My dad worked hard, usually at a large job site like an oil refinery, in the summer's heat and winter's cold. My dad often went to work when he was sick and still I never heard him complain. At the end of the day he would come home covered in grime, scrapes and bruises, handing his lunchbox over to us kids so that we could find a "sweet" surprise at the bottom. As hard as my dad worked we still never had much for extras and what little we did have my dad was always the first to offer it to someone who needed it more. My dad was the man who stood behind the one everyone else doubted and was always quick to forgive and forget.

As I switched my memories gears and started thinking about my father-in-law and how much we've missed him since he's passed away my first thoughts were of how hard he also worked. He worked for the railroad, a strenuous and dirty job that kept him away from the ones that he loved for days at a time. He too would go to work sick and sore but his son never heard him grumble, all he wanted out of life was for his sons to be happy and a nice pair of binoculars to view wildlife. I am quick to find a smile as I remember how he helped everyone, friend or stranger. If you needed a penny, a shirt, or a kind word he was the man to give it. It was important to him to stand firm in his belief of the preservation of both nature and the true spirit of human kindness.

So with all that said I would like to take a moment to say, "Thank You!" to my father's for being men who are an inspiration to me in how I live my life in helping others.