Forget What You Think You Know About the Moon

More specifically, its placement, because my dad hung it.  He is my rock, my hero, my sounding board, my advisor.  When I was in first grade, I forgot a signed permission slip at home, and for my first-grade self, it was the end of the world.  I called my dad and shortly after, the secretary called me to the office to pick up my signed permission slip that he had faxed in.  And once again, all was right in my world.  He has continued to save me and make all right in my world since then.  Teaching me to drive (he would not want "credit" for my driving "skills") when I had exhausted the patience of every other family member; making endless financial contributions to the accounting major who couldn't be bothered to balance her checkbook; reassurance that I could and should enroll in a study abroad semester; tearful phone calls when I worked at D questioning what I was doing, where my life was going; buying me a computer when I found myself between jobs, and more importantly reminding me that life was not over, and this too shall pass; driving a huge, shaky moving truck full of my shit, that he had 80% loaded himself, 350 miles away from home.     
You are the greatest man I know!  Happy Father's Day to a man who brings so much honor to the title "Father".