When I was fourteen, my dad passed away as a result of a brain tumor. Many people that learn this express sympathy and tell me how bad it must have been to lose a parent at so young an age. However, I count my blessings. He was actually diagnosed 6 years earlier and was told he had about 6 months. He defied the odds given to him and in those years, my family and I had some pretty terrific, quality time together. Most notably, for me, they were years in Boy Scouts with my dad ...as a scoutmaster, teaching me a love of camping. It was time that he passed on his appreciation for sci-fi (the first movie we saw just the two of us was Star Wars). And too many countless memories to name. My favorite, though, was a Christmas morning when I woke up a little too soon to see my dad putting together my bike "from Santa". I couldn't have loved my dad more than at that moment to see the quiet things he did for me and his other 4 boys. For me, he was a greater man than Santa could ever be.