Remembering My Dad

"To live in hearts we leave behind is not to die." Thomas Campbell

November 8th is my father's birthday. He would have been 84 years old if he had survived the troubles that beset him in the fall and winter of 2001-2002. This photo was taken on his last birthday. As the years go by, the heartbreak of those days has eased and I'm able to focus on his life rather than his death.

I remember how my father was always crazy about my mother and treated her as an equal partner in their marriage.

I remember how smart he was, especially in math, and how he seemed to not hold it against me that I wasn't smart in math.

I remember how he loved to read, especially European History, and how he tried (mostly successfully) to share his love of history with his children.

I remember his ambition for a better life, and how he pushed all of his children, even his two daughters, to go to college and find profitable jobs.

I remember his love of the Boy Scouts, his passion for doing genealogical research, and how he was a great driver, an excellent mechanic, and a very capable carpenter.

I remember that he was fond of chocolate covered cherries and Old Spice after shave lotion, and always graciously received them from his kids as Christmas and Father's Day gifts.

I remember how proud he was of his children and their successes.


Happy Birthday, Daddy. You will always be alive in my heart.