Back before the internet and cable TV, when there were only 3 channels, families did things together - shocking I know. He would take us to the archery range that Xerox had. We would go camping at Darrien Lakes. We would play-wrestle and go to the pool. We spent a lot of time together, the three of us. We didn't have much money, but we had each other. That was the kind of father he was. A provider. A nurturer. But not a nutritionist.

Then in my teen years he married Helen and our little family of three was now five. My dad welcomed her son Jeff as if he was his own. He helped buy Jeff's first car. He helped with Jeff's college. And when Jeff grew up and opened a CD store, he helped with that too. That is the kind of father he was. Loving unconditionally, never playing favorites and always there for his children - biological or not.

Back then, kids were much more obedient to their parents than they are now. There was a certain respect and perhaps even fear that we had. My dad never doled out spankings. He didn't really yell at us. In fact, more often than not, he would talk in a calm and reasoned voice. Usually saying, "well, it's your life, you can do what you want". I always hated that, because it made me know what the right thing to do was, despite not wanting to do it. That was the kind of father he was. Revered.

At my high school graduation, when each student was called to walk across the stage, they asked me what name should they announce. I had an epiphany at that moment and said, "David Vincent Romano". I knew right then that I wanted my dad to be honored too, and to let him know that I was proud to be his son because that was the kind of father he was.

In 1996, I moved out west to California. This was a huge event for me as I'd lived at home till I was 25! He had given me a credit card to use "for emergencies". Well, I think we had different definitions of what constitutes an emergency. Car repairs? - of course. The possibility of running out of gas? - surely that was an emergency waiting to happen right? Flights home to visit for the holidays? How else would I get back? Dinner? He wouldn't want me to starve now would he? Needless to say, that card got some exercise. Never once did he complain. He just accepted my questionable charges and trusted my judgment (which some might say was impaired).

Then in 1998 I was moving from California to Seattle - where I live to this day. But I'll never forget the Christmas I came home and handed him back the credit card, saying that I wouldn't be needing it anymore. There was this proud look on his face. A look that said, "my boy has grown up and is now a man". We shook hands for the first time. It was a moment that I'll never forget. That was the kind of father he was. Trusting. Proud.

My dad and I grew closer over these years despite the distance in miles between us. He also was going through a divorce and needed a friend -- Someone he could talk to. The fact that we would talk on the phone regularly and about work or relationships or politics or science or any number of topics solidified our bond even tighter. The more I got to know him on this level, the more I realized how similar we were and how much of him has permeated through me. He was my sounding board for advice and my voice of reason when I couldn't think clearly. He used to always tell me, "common sense isn't all that common". That was the kind of father he was. Wise, smart, and logical.

Eleven years ago, he re-married to Judy. I gained two more brothers Matt and Jimmy. Again, he took them in as his own sons. Helping them through their financial hardships and personal turmoil as he did for Jeff, Jenny and myself over the years. He especially adored the grand-children and would chuckle as he recounted stories of them to me. I'd never seen him so happy in all my life and I truly believe that Judy is his soul mate.

He was a kind, loving and gentle man that would do anything for his children, wife and family. He was as proud of me as his son, as I am as proud of him, as my father. He had a calming way about him, and when he said, "everything will be okay", you believed it. He provided stability in an otherwise chaotic world - the proverbial "rock" to which we all cling to. He was honored and respected by his friends and co-workers.

My dad is my hero. In the past he was my hero for what I thought he was; now he is my hero because of what I know he is. He is the man I looked up to growing up and the man I aspire to be now that I'm grown.