  Dear Dad, You will never read this, and not just because no one ever does, but because it's an on-line journal that you don't even know exists.
I was thinking about you today, however, and wanted to tell you that I appreciate your presence in my life. Not that I don't think of you or speak to you often, but today I was thinking back on my life and the things that matter to me most. You have always been there for me in so many ways that are above and beyond the "call of duty" so to speak.
In ways that are more important than simply standing nearby. I feel that some of the most precious memories in our lives are not those of great grandeur, but rather those of grandeur disguised by simplicity. I was thinking recently about my love of aviation as a child, and even to this day. You actually were interested in aviation yourself, having had your pilots license and a plane of your own in the past. I, on the other hand, somehow developed the intense interest in aviation at an early age. I could name any jet that flew over my head simply by looking at the pattern of the lights, wing shape, etc.
Each weekend on a Saturday or Sunday you would take me to the airport and sit with me on that one bench at the private jet terminal of the San Antonio International Airport; just so that I could watch the planes pass by. After about an hour, you would always say "you ready buddy? " and we would return home. Though I have many memories with you, this particular past-time we shared together struck me as symbolic and especially important.
As lame as it sounds, I never outgrew the love of watching the planes go by at the airport. I remember actually looking forward to turning 16 so that I could drive myself to the airport and not have to ask you to take me there. In fact, I actually did start taking myself to watch the planes fly over my head. It was a form of relaxation and escape for me.
Some might get away from the world by going on a drive, some might have quiet time in their room or sitting alone with nature. I, on the other hand, always knew I could go to my "spot" and sit and think in peace if I wanted to, enjoying watching the planes fly by. I would sit wondering where people were going, naming the aircraft in my head as they passed, enthralled in the idea of flight which had always fascinated me.
As I am older now, I realize that spending an hour on a Saturday sitting on a bench while I stared down a runway was probably not the time of your life. I'm starting to understand though, that memories such as that are what make my childhood special. Progress long overtook our old bench at the airport, and God knows that they would never allow people to be roaming freely on airport grounds in today's tightly secure transportation environment. That bench and time we spent there, is much like life though. You've always given me a "ride" or opportunity to go to the places I wanted to go or had interest in being; whether it was to the airport, or even college and soon law school.
Your support of my interests and endeavors is priceless to me. Never once did you even give the inkling of an impression that our weekly airport trip was something of a bother. To this day you give to me in a completely unselfish way, in a way that I often wonder if I would be able to mimic if roles were reversed. Thank you for always sitting next to me on the bench. Thank you for always giving me a ride to the places I wanted to go in that selfless manner you always have possessed. Thank you for pushing me towards being even half the great person that I think you are. Thank you for always knowing when it's time to move on with a gentle "you ready buddy? " Thank you for caring for me as a son, and thank you for loving me as a person. How foolish of me to ever have wanted to be "old enough" to be able to sit on that bench alone.
No matter how old I am, I hope I will always have you to sit next to. Thank you for supporting me in a way that lets me know that I will never have to be alone in life. I pray that I will always be able to sit next to you and share even an hour of time together, no matter if the surroundings are of interest to either of us.
I love you Dad, Mason 
