A few weeks ago, I wrote an article about my disbelief in the 'one best friend' theory. I still stand by that statement, but everyone has a first best friend in their life. It may be a parent, a sibling, another family member, a neighbor, or the child that your parent constantly has you around.

For me, it was a member of my family. I love both of my parents and all four of my siblings, but only one of them claimed the title: my father. He and I are alike in many ways and that contributes to why he will always be my number one best friend. But that's not the only reason. Not even close.

Before I get into all of that, I need to provide a little backstory. I was born on June 16, 1995. My father had a broken arm at the time I was born and had just driven two hours to a customer when he got the call my mom was in labor. He then had to drive those two hours back home and make an effort to NOT drive like a maniac. He made it back in plenty of time and the beginning of our friendship was born (see what I did there?).

As much as I want to be able to say the next few weeks were filled with nothing but joy for my parents and older siblings, they weren't. My grandmother, my Nanny that I had never truly met, was sick from cancer. My parents explain now that they traveled with me sooner than they would have because they wanted Nanny to have the chance to hold me.

She loved babies. Unfortunately, she passed away about two weeks after I was born. She held me no more than twice. Before she passed, she said her last words to my father and some of them were about me. I will not share these thoughts as they are very personal to my father and I. For the purpose of this article, I will say this: she told him that I was an Angel that God sent to him to help him through her passing, and then life after she was gone. I like to think I fulfilled that task.

Now that I have the sappy stuff out of the way I can really begin.

My dad is an excellent father who does not give himself nearly enough credit for everything he does for us. While we were not aware of the sacrifices he made for us as kids, they no longer go unnoticed. He has been in the water treatment business for almost his entire career, in one capacity or another.

When we were younger, until I was about 12 or 13 years old, he was a traveling salesman. He was away 3-4 nights a week and would come home on Thursday or Friday to work from a local office until Sunday. On Sunday or Monday night, he would sit us all on his lap and tell us about his schedule for the upcoming week. I can tell now that it pained him much more than we ever noticed to be away from us.

The days that he was home were really special because I go to see my best friend. I do not remember much from where we used to live, but since moving here I would be glued to his side from when he walked in the door until I was carried (or walked) up to bed. Having been gone the whole week, or so it seemed, there was always a stack of chores and housework that he needed to get done and I was more than happy to help him through it. Well, until I discovered my great disdain for yard work.

As my siblings and I grew up, he traveled less and was home more. It was due to circumstances beyond his control, and he does miss it. I do not know that it will last forever, he loves life too much to be stuck behind a desk.

My parents are huge believers in letting us be involved in any activity we wanted to try. That belief also came with the insistence that we know basic life skills and courtesies, some of which many of my college peers did not know. When I was younger that knowledge came in seemingly simple values that built a foundation for our lives.

Learn to share what you have because if you can't, you do not deserve to have it.

Always use the buddy system even if you think it's silly.

Be nice to your sibling because they'll be there when no one else is.

Do not forget the family that you came from because they made you who you are.

The list could go on and on. With that firm foundation, we grew up and learned bigger life skills. My father taught me so much about how to live on my own while I was still living at home. How to cook for yourself. How to know when to rush in and when to keep your distance. How to maintain the basic essentials for a car, save more money than you spend and do a chore without being asked. If you're suffering from something, offer it up, because someone is suffering worse than you are.

A prime, and recent, example of things my father taught me to do is jumping a car battery. I went camping with a group of friends and there were about 8 of us. We each had our own car, and on the last day someone's car battery died. It happens. I was the only one that had jumper cables in my car and knew how to use them properly. (No, you DO NOT connect all four wire ends to a battery. That could end VERY badly.)

But without my father, I would not have known how to do that. When my gas pedal got stuck merging onto a highway, I would not have had the mindset to get myself off the road and out of danger, using whatever means necessary. When my grandmother died, I might not have rearranged by finals to be at home with my mother. There were so many things he demonstrated for me so I would know how to live a good life.

He showed me what a real love is by watching him with my mother. He demonstrated how to be a family to someone that didn't have one. He taught me not to pass judgment on the way someone chooses to live their life because it is above my pay grade to do so. He encouraged me to learn to laugh at myself to make it hurt less when others did. I still struggle with that one.

I could write forever about what having this man as a father has done for me. I admit that I take him for granted at times and then life sends me a reminder not to.

I know I am lucky to have a father that loves me as much as he does. I have met many people who have lost their father in one way or another and it reminds me to be grateful for both of my parents.

When his father died, he said that he would never fill his shoes. He joked that they were the size of clown shoes. I wish he realized how off that statement is. He is not a carbon copy of his father, but he is the next best thing.

Dad, thank you for everything you have ever done to help me succeed. From setting me straight to setting me free, thank you. Thank you for helping to bring me from here:

To here: