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My father understood those rules clearly. Dads worked hard and stayed employed, regardless of how menial or mundane
job. Dads spent time with their kids. But most importantly, dads offered glimpses into what it meant to be a man and a father—in
purest sense of both terms.
In what seems to me to be a smaller way than my dad, I walk
precarious tightrope that is "Dad" vs. "Me," always trying to maintain a balance between
two. And although my circumstances are very different,
importance of
task remains unchanged.
Like my father, I try to let my kids know how much I believe in
sanctity of this special time in their lives. By offering them my love and support, I hope to give them
gift my father gave me—the greatest gift a father can give, really—warm, gentle memories of their childhood. And no matter how difficult their lives may become later on, they’ll always be able to take comfort in those sweet memories, and no one can ever take that gift away.
So here's to my dad, to your dad, and to all dads—men who gave up or postponed their own dreams so that we might reach for ours. Men in whose footprints we tried to step as we struggled through
deep snowdrifts of our childhood, marveling at how long a man's stride could be.

Gary Anderson is a freelance writer, editor, ghostwriter, and manuscript analyst, living on a small Iowa farm. He’s published more than 500 articles and four books. He’s also ghosted a dozen books, edited more than 30 full-length manuscripts, produced seven newsletters, and has done more than 800 manuscript reviews for various publishers around the nation. If you need writing or editing help, visit Gary’s website at www.abciowa.com.