Before I was even born you read "The Hobbit" and The Lord of the Rings series to me. I blame you for making me a giant nerd.

Mom always tells me of how when I was little I would wait every day for you to come home from work and rush you as soon as you hit the door.

You hid all my Care Bears around the house to distract me for a while so you and Mom could get a break.

You took me to the fossil dig when I had my dinosaur phase.

You went to see "Infinity War" with me the Friday it came out (that was 100% an impulse thing).

The summer I spent with you, Kameron, Grandma, and Grandpa was one of the best summers I've ever had.

I love hearing your stories:

How you were doing fieldwork in New Mexico and it snowed on you, but as you drove back to your house it was clear. There was still snow on your truck, though.

How you (almost) got a job at Baylor.

Grandpa's various supernatural experiences.

How your boy scout troop clipped a Gecko to your ear, and how it wouldn't come off.

That one time you swallowed a moth.

The process of getting your PhD.

And my personal favorite, how you met Mom. Although I go to Baylor, I will be forever appreciative of Texas A&M for bringing you two together.

Although sometimes you MAY repeat your stories, sometimes you still manage to surprise me with a new one every now and then.

I've even been in a few:

Remember when your birthday got messed up and you had to go through another level of security at the White House?

Or when I almost got hit by lightning in Colorado?

Or when I moved into college?

How about when we went to the gladiator exhibit at the museum?

Or when you took me to work?

Or literally any late night spent helping me review countless topics for my AP exams?

Or when I called you in a panic right before my AP Euro exam to talk about "the German Problem" one last time?

You've made me who I am.

You've fostered my love for history and given me a very limited knowledge of geology (I'm sorry, I can't remember much).

We look the same.

We act the same (for the most part).

We're so alike, you and I. You've always been in my life, and yet I'm not so sure I've ever said thank you.

So thanks, Dad.

Thanks for making me who I am.

Thanks for helping me find my passion.

Thanks for being here for me, even when I'm in Waco.

Thanks for helping me with all my papers and studying and research (that Roanoke book is sitting right behind me, waiting to be used).

Thank you for everything.

I miss you.

And I love you so much.