My dad passed away last night.

His name was Henry Alvarez and he was founder and owner of Alvarez Wax Productions ([link]), one of the top producers of Wax Figures in the country. He was a truly gifted artist that could draw and paint, but his specialty was sculpture.

He was passionate about it. Reveled in it. Constantly striving to improve. He was a sculptor extraordinaire and he loved to teach what he had learned about the craft.

He was also a great man. A wonderful human being. A great husband to my mom. A great friend to all. A fountain of knowledge to those that sought his advice. A great mentor to those lucky enough to be taken under his wing. But most important to me... he was a great father.

He has been there all along the way. Always ready to help me, to applaud each of my successes and to lend a supporting hand for each of my failures.

He started my creativity at a young age, playing a drawing game with me. I'd draw a scribble and he would turn it into a drawing of something else. A monster, an animal, a spaceship. I learned that you're only limited by your own imagination. I've been drawing ever since.

When I was around four or five years old, I had somehow stumbled upon this magical thing called comic books. I don't recall the exact moment or the exact issue, but I knew I loved them. I loved the colorful super-heroes that fought to make the world a better place inside those pages. Loved the beautiful art and the fantastic stories that jumped out at me.

And my dad keyed in on that instantly. Before I knew it, Batman, Superman and Captain America were on my bedroom walls and Spider-Man was on the ceiling. Not posters or cut-out pictures hung up or anything mundane like that, but painted life-size portraits of them to guard over me. Hand painted by him.

My love affair with super heroes grew to include action figures. In the 1970's, there was only one line of toys that mattered. Mego action figures. So that Christmas, not only did I receive quite a few of the prized heroes and villains, but both my dad and mom had built a headquarters for my new super-powered friends. Hand crafted, with amazing gizmos, computer screens, and a crane with a hook. It was incredible.

My dad would also do stuff like buy a Marvel Comics calendar, glue the images to wood and use the bandsaw to turn them into a series of jigsaw puzzles for me. I have them to this day.

Once he heard about comic book conventions (1980's Creation Conventions), he was suddenly whisking me off to these events. To put it simply, I was in heaven. I had no idea there were so many types of comics. So many other heroes that I had never heard of. So many artists I had never seen. And that there were so many other people that loved them as much as I did.

That was the kind of guy he was. Going out of his way for me. Taking pleasure in seeing my own joy.

He also loved movies and we would spend hours watching stuff together, instilling in me a lifelong obsession with film. So when I was finally able to realize a dream of making a movie, he was thrilled for me. Proud of me.

I expected to spend countless hours with him as he aged, to still rely on his advice well into his elder years and to laugh together the whole time.

That won't be happening now.

He was 67 with a zest for life and had exciting plans in the works, but lung cancer took all that away. He wasn't even a smoker. Mesothelioma. Exposure to asbestos somewhere during his life.

I've been robbed of his company and it hurts so much, I can barely stand it.

He was the kindest, funniest, and most compassionate man I have ever known. I admire everything about him and I am thankful that I was able to have him as my father.

I will miss you dad.
Love you pops.