My dad, who died just before Thanksgiving in 1997, would have been 101 years old today.
To say I miss him every day is an understatement. There are so many things I wish he could see today. Like, for instance:
- What spendid men his grandsons have become.
- What fine women his grandsons married
- What a brilliant great-granddaughter he has, who inherited his sly and ever-present sense of humor
- Our new home in the sunny mid-South
- Our two dogs – Ruthie the sweetheart who seems 6 years younger since her haircut, and Pete the snuggly Aussie
Sitting here on our screened back porch, with the warm breezes carrying the woodsy scents of spring, I’d love to pour him a cup of coffee and catch up on everything that’s happened since he left us on that cold November day 13 years ago.
Happy birthday, Dad. Tell Mom I said hi and give my regards to everyone where you are.
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