Dad, your guiding hand on my shoulder will remain with me forever. ~Author Unknown

Somewhere in 1980 or 1981 (the date is all fuzzy to me) I met the man who would help mold me into the woman I am today. Most of us aren't fortunate enough to chose our parents, but I did have that chance when my mother met the man who would be my step dad - The DadUnit.

Born in 1934 in a small town in Eastern Washington, raised by truth, hard work and integrity. All qualities he passed on to me. Times were hard for him growing up. Being in a farming family, during the blackest times in the US economy - meant that they went without a lot of the material items that our children "expect" today. Still, they had love in the family, and enough food to feed them - what more could they need?

He graduated from Marlin High School - a graduation class of 4 and set out to see the world. Going to college at Central Washington he studied hard, got a job, married, had three boys and settled down into a job.

Sometime later he went to work for the Boeing company and was shipped off to Iran. While there he got a chance to see the world. Experience things that many in that time frame didn't. He was one of the last Boeing employees to shut the lights off in Iran before they took the hostages.

Leaving Iran he ended up single and living in Lancaster California. Which is where he once again met my mother. "Once again" because while we lived in Minot, North Dakota (I know, right? The place expresses what hell will look like when it freezes over) he hired my mother to the Boeing company. Weird how the world tilts without you even knowing.

1981/82 he became part of my life. And a part of my heart. With him at the wheel our family blossomed. We traveled. We experienced. We lived. And we loved. Because of him, I got a stellar high school education in a foreign land, and got to go to where the culture was as far from what I knew in the US as it could be (Saudi Arabia). I'm sure he never thought he'd be asked to step up and raise a teenage girl. He had boys and I'm sure at times he thought they were way easier - certainly less emotional.

He supported me through college. Financially, yes, but so much more than that. He wasn't necessarily on board with my major, but let me pursue it all the same. Every trip home asking as only a concerned Dad could - "What are you going to do with a Spanish degree?" Truth be told, I had no idea at that time, but knew I'd figure it out.

After college, he supported me through all the jobs I've had. Secretly hoping I suspect that I would have stayed with his Alma mater Boeing.

Through the years, I've never once questioned his love for me as his daughter. I've never felt like I was a "step" daughter to him. He was strict, but fair. And while I may not have agreed with all his punishments or opinions I knew they were coming from the heart. He never yelled when punishing either. He would sit and we'd "discuss" it. I hated that. It was way more painful to be civil when all you wanted to do was yell and scream. Yet, I've never heard his voice raised in anger.

Here I am in my forties now and he in his seventies. He's not doing overly great health wise. He may not be the man that walked into my life some 30 years ago thanks to the Alzheimer's and I worry about the time I have left with him. I worry about the things I may never get to do with him. I worry about the stories I may never hear him tell. But with all that worry, I know that he made me who I am (with help from the MomUnit of course) and that deep down his heart is still that of a man who stepped in to raise a young girl into a woman.

Happy Father's Day, Dad. Thank you for everything you've given me through the years.