In writing on the Older Parent Blog about today being the eighty-third anniversary of my father's birth, I was thinking of all the ways that I am me that are as they are because of my dad ...and, yes, I would suspect that a tendency toward verbosity in the written form is one.

Who knows how much influence any one person has on another, even when that person is a parent, and some things may be quite subtle. I might, perhaps, prefer a certain color because of something my father once said in passing, or a food associated with a pleasant event.

I know I've never owned a Ford because of all the swearing my father did at one particular model that caused trouble. A quest for knowledge is one side effect of his lack of tolerance for people who couldn't be bothered to learn.

I'm quite certain that I live on an island in the Indian Ocean today because my father's ability to think outside of the box.

My dad left home when he was fourteen, traveling Northern California working on cattle ranches and logging sites. He joined the Navy at the beginning of WWll. I don't know if they used the slogan, Join the Navy and see the world back in 1942, but those years certainly took him further than he'd ever been.

He liked it; not the war, of course, but the travel, the exposure to new people and places. He loved setting his feet in other histories, tasting cultures, sliding into the skin of natives, learning the rhythms and cadence of language and song.

When I was about twelve, my dad was offered a job in Panama, and after a bit of discussion, he accepted. As luck would have it, a revolution broke out just before we were to move, so that didn't happen. I can't speak for my brothers, but I was terribly disappointed ... and I've followed Panamanian events ever since imagining what life might have been like if that country had become a second home.

My step mom is first-generation Chinese American, and my dad had endless admiration for her parents and the leap of faith that had them leave everything for a new life.

From as early in my life as I can recall, there was never a message that told me life was to be lived where it began. Primarily because of my father, I grew up knowing that my time on this planet need not be passed standing in one place, but there was always the option of traveling a path that could take me far and teach me much.

Without limits, mental and emotional boundaries to tie me down physically to one town or one state or one country, it was possible for me to follow my heart, even halfway around the globe. Accepting that the world is home to all of us also made it a simple thing to build my family with children that had their beginnings in a place I'd never seen, then incorporate the fiber of that place into the fabric of us.

How much of who I am is due to the man my dad was is not possible to see, but since today is his birthday, I'm giving him all the credit.

Happy Birthday, Dad. I love you. I miss you. And how I wish you could know my life now! You'd love it!