Tonight, he is in the hospital. I don't think he really knows what the doctor said about his condition. That's today. But there've been over 80 years leading up to this day.
During those 80+ years, he survived the depression by helping his mother fish for food, he picked blackberries, delivered milk, lied about his age to join the army, served in WWII, kept the hosiery mill running, and fathered my Jilly. Anybody can be a sperm donor, but it takes someone special to be a dad. And Dad is exactly who he is to my Jilly.
He helped raise her to become my wife and the mother of my children. I can't tell you how many times Jilly has told me that girls marry men who are like their fathers. If she means I am like her Dad, then I take pride in that. I hope to raise my girls to be as good of mothers as my Jilly. Not just mothers, but whole women.
We usually call him Papaw, nowadays. He lives with us since his heart bypass surgery. I am thankful for him.