i was thinking that…

fathers and sons don’t say i love you all that often…

i can count on one hand the number of times i’ve told my dad i love him…i’m 42 years-old, people…that should give you an idea about the scope of this kind of thing…

but, just because we don’t say it all that often…or as often as women and mothers do…it doesn’t mean that we don’t have that kind of love for each other…

when i was growing up, my dad was the provider and protector for our family–in the traditional sense–with my mom at home with us most of the time, taking the lead in the child rearing…my dad was there for us (my sister and i)…but just in a different way…

among men…love is most certainly revealed in the act of doing something together…and so it was with me and my dad…whether we were kicking a soccer ball, going to a movie, watching a sporting event, completing a household project, taking a road trip, or having a catch…or even, just sitting side by side—saying nothing…

it was in those little every day interactions and activities together that i knew my dad loved me…

so, thank you, dad…for being there, for doing stuff with me (and chris)…

and though it’s understood, though it’s known…let me tell you, let me say it ‘out loud’ (nearly)…

i love you, i always have…