My father

Its 4:30. Time to go to work. Six days shall you labor. 13 hours a day. The seventh day is a day of rest, but much is expected of my father even on that day. My father's build comes from a time when men were men. His thick chest and graying beard are those of a Norse soldier, not of the feminine stock that today passes for men. My father is stalwart. My father is what God requires of man. He is a creator. An artist. An educator. A defender. A laborer. A servant. A husband. A father. He is my best friend. My father is Loves His Lord and his creation. He glorifies God and he will enjoy him forever. He blesses those around him with strong drink, and good cigars. My father's singing reverberates off the roof and dances in our ears. I love my father. I am leaving him. But he has molded me into someone like himself, and I will make him proud.