Posted on Jul 24, 2016 in Blog |

I wrote the following piece for Dad for Father’s Day, 2006. I found it in his files the week before this past Father’s Day among other pieces I had written. I didn’t have the courage to post it until today. Dad And Me June 18, 2006 – Father’s Day I am very fortunate to have two loving parents who provided me with a ‘normal’ upbringing. Some of the threads that, together, form my ‘fabric,’ include my childhood memories. On this Father’s Day, I thought you might want to see what I saw and what I remember of you and me. You were a corporate executive, working six days a week for 30 years. So while the hours that I saw you were more limited than those with mom, I still hold many glimpses of my childhood (and adulthood) like photographs of our relationship. Memories from Texas: – I wasn’t more than five years old. You came home from work; I ran up to you, quite pleased with myself, announcing, “Dad! I learned a new word today!” You were putting your coat away in the closet. I think it was your suit jacket. But you were just putting it on the hanger and putting it into the closet when you replied, “You did?! What is it?” With my excitement just beyond containment, I proudly enunciated, “Damn!” The color drained from your face, your smile evaporated. I don’t remember what you said after that, but I remember being puzzled by the look on your face. – You held me over the wall of the dam so I could see the water coming out while Mom shrieked, “Earle, put her down. Earle, this isn’t safe.” – I remember standing in a Baskin-Robbins ice cream store; we all got to order double scoops. I got chocolate mint chip. The total cost was less than one dollar. I remember you paying with that dollar bill and getting change back. – I remember standing outside of our car, looking at the Grand Canyon. It is just one view that I remember, but I remember you standing in front of me, to the side, looking into...

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