My dad is not the life of the party. On purpose. That is to say that he most likely would not enjoy a big bloggy splash of a tribute. So I hope he does not mind this little post.
This is my dad holding me on the balcony of our apartment in Bangkok in 1969.
Thank you dad for:
putting the covers on me when I was cold, even in the middle of the night
taking us on so many cross country camping adventures and making GORP every time
the Old Rag hike and the picnic we had on the rock at the top
telling me when I was stressed about a paper in college, “The worst that could happen is you could get an F.”
picking me up at a very late hour, no questions asked, in high school when my friends went someplace I was not comfortable going
never limiting my choices because of my gender
buying me Def Leppard’s Pyromania while we were vacationing in Florida after I jokingly said that’s what you could pick up for me at the store when you asked before heading to the PX. It is the one time in my life you truly surprised and shocked me.
for spontaneously off-roading the VW up that hill (almost a mountain)
and for knowing exactly where that happened even though I have long since forgotten
for planting gourds for my boys and being such a loving grandfather to them
for getting the 800 numbers for Daniel and me so we could talk every day
for going to all my soccer games as a kid, and driving the LTD onto the field after I took a ball to the jaw
thank you for working hard at a job that, I think, was not that fulfilling, to make a better life for us
Thank you dad for always being there for me as a support system, sounding board and worst case scenario instructor!
I love you Daddo!