It is often said that we don’t truly appreciate what we have until we’ve lost it. The core truth in that became evident to me the day my father passed away. Like most daughters, he was my hero—the yardstick by which I measured every other man, and in many ways still do.

In the months after his death, I relived many of the conversations we’d shared. Things he showed me, taught me, projects we did together. He was engaged in all things, open to discussing all things.

Even today, I hear his voice. I hear his encouraging, his warning, his wisdom, and his guidance.

One year, my son gave my husband a wall hanging. It reads: “The greatest gift I ever got came from God. I call him Dad.” That was over twenty years ago and still today it hangs on the wall beside my husband’s favorite chair. Still today, on occasion he speaks of it, reads it, mentions it. It has been a source of rededication to him. A reminder to him during hard times and good times.

Fathers are such a critical part of childrens’ lives. And so long as their children live, and their childrens’ children live, their role never ends. For the lessons they teach are then recalled and taught. The lives fathers shape go on to shape the lives of others.

That is a great gift—and a treasured blessing.

And for it, today and every day, thank you, God, and thank you, Dad.