Today is my dad’s birthday, and it only feels right to write about the one constant I’ve had my entire life. As my parents get older, it hits me harder than I ever expected. I know I’ve already spent more years with them than I’ll likely get to have left, and that reality stings. But it also makes me even more grateful for the man my dad is.

My dad has been there through every high and every low. He’s the one who tells me when I’m veering off the path and tries to nudge me back in line—even when I’m stubborn and hard‑headed. And let’s be honest, I didn’t stand a chance. All my parents are stubborn and hard‑headed. It’s a family trait at this point.

I’m thankful for everything he’s taught me. His hustle, especially. No matter what season of life he was in—hurting, tired, worn out, sad—he showed up and showed out. He still does. At 18 years old he moved here with nothing but a dream, worked multiple jobs, found a mentor, learned everything he could, and built a life from the ground up. Eventually he bought out the owners of the company, renamed it, and still runs part of that business today. That’s who he is. One hell of a guy.

He taught me the value of a dollar early on. Probably broke a few child labor laws along the way, but I’m better for it. We remodeled houses, and once the job was done—not during, but after—my parents would take us to do something fun. If our friends helped, they got to go too. He taught me how to mow the lawn, how to raise puppies, and he made me change my own tire before I was ever allowed to drive alone. Honestly, every kid should have to do that before taking off in their own car.

Dad, today and every day, I’m thankful God chose you to be my dad. I hope this birthday is one of your happiest. Love you.