He was 19 when I was born. Every 2 years, another child until they had 4. My mom was 17 when I was born, but her heart was not home, as dad's was; she was a wild child. She brought home many strange men while dad was driving truck on the road, making a living for his family. They left each other many times.  In the fifties, courts did not give kids to fathers. He could care for us and he loved us more, but the courts didn't see that; kids belonged to mom. She'd party and leave us for days at a time, and he would come get us only to have to face the courts again and again. They finally put my paternal grandmother in charge, but dad was there. He kept us from foster homes, he fed us, clothed us, kept a roof over our heads, loved us; things many kids take as their right, we did not take for granted. He adopted kids not his own and finally had a family of 10 children, yours, mine and ours. He treated us all the same. No one asked him what he wanted to be when he grew up. No one asked if he was satisfied in the work he did. No one gave him a pat on the back. He never bragged about it, he never expected anything in return, but he provided, and protected, and professed his love to us daily by not only telling us, but showing us. I love him so much words cannot express it. He is the definition of father. I admire him, I apppreciate him and I sing his praises to any who listen. He's my dad. 

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