I think my dad is Superman.

It's a scary moment when you realize that a parent isn't invincible. Growing up, (assuming you have kick-ass parents like I did) it's easy to come to believe that your parents will be around forever, that they'll always be there to put a bandaid on a scraped knee and tell you it's ridiculous to put one on a bruise. At some point, though, you get old enough and reality kicks you in the face, and you realize that's all just a childhood fantasy.

My family was camping on Lake Okanagan in Canada when I figured this out. Dad and I were taking a walk and we decided to stop at some swings that were in the campground. We started having a pretty serious conversation about life and death and what it meant to him to be my dad. My reality face-kick came in the form of Dad telling me what he wanted his legacy to be; how he wanted me to remember him when he was gone. He was telling me that he was afraid of the legacy he was leaving behind because he was afraid of the kind of father that he was to my brother and I.

I'd never even considered the idea that he might be gone one day. Until that conversation I'd always taken for granted that he'd be there indefinitely.

I've always thought that I have one of the best dads in the world. He doesn't know it and would refuse to believe it if someone told him, but he's pretty badass.