My brother and I stood at the kitchen window, long after the neighbors lights had been turned off and everyone looked to be tucked safely into their homes. We watched as two dark figures went up and down the street, one on a bike, the other running frantically behind. The two figures were none other than our parents. My dad was teaching my mom to ride a bike. Not wanting to make a spectacle of herself, mom insisted on waiting until after dark. What made mom decide she needed to learn to ride a bike then and there, I don't remember because I was pretty small. I wouldn't say dad taught mom to ride a bike, but rather taught her to stay upright while sitting on a bike and even then the only way she could stay upright, was to go full steam ahead (exactly how she drove a car). When she slowed down, she lost her balance. The memory is a small example of my dad's amazing love. I have always been a daddy's girl. I loved to help him when he did little things around the house. If he was at work when I went to bed, the next night I would insist that he tuck me in twice. Dad is the most kind, gentle, loving man in the whole wide world, and I'm not saying that just because he's my dad, I'm saying it because it is the absolute truth. Today is his 79th birthday and he is still the energizer bunny able to run circles around anyone. Even a wordy girl like me can't fully describe how deep my love runs for this man who has been the most closest example of Christ I have ever known. I can truly say that he is everything he seems to be, which in my eyes is dang near perfect. Happy Birthday Dad, you will never know how much I love you.