The world will try to define your manhood.

They will tell you that a men don't cry. That men are meant to be tough and rugged. That you are supposed to be good at sports. That your pride is attractive. That you have certain rights, simply because you are a man. That you don't have to apologize for your behavior. They will try to excuse poor choices.

Your daddy is one of the greatest men that I have ever met. He cries at the sad part in movies. His hands are gentle and his words are kind. He will always put himself last and lifts up those around him, leaving his own successes at the door and joyfully celebrating the success of those around him.

He never hesitates to tell others of my accomplishments, even when I pretend that they aren't a big deal. He is the first to apologize, even when he isn't wrong. In moments of weakness, when he makes mistakes or his mouth gets ahead of his heart, he takes ownership.

He asks for help when he knows he is in over his head. He is a good friend. He loves you and your sister deeply and gets excited for the chance to tell others about you. He'd shout his love for me from the rooftops if I'd let him. He takes care of us, even when it requires sacrifice.

You're one lucky little boy, to have the daddy that you do. He is a good man. A great man. And one day my son, you will be too.