Memories of my dad really do warm my heart. I picture him smiling, and I picture his wave which was both a warm greeting and casual goodbye. There was something about the way he held his hand in the air as he stood outside, always, as we drove away. It felt reassuring and respectful. It was just one of the many, many things I found endearing about him.
Knowing him was to know a true gentleman, thoughtful and kind, generous, and intelligent. A class act. At the same time, he had enough silly jokes and comedic routines that made us laugh wholeheartedly and beg for more.
As a father, he started out pretty strict. It may have been his Naval Academy training, or his strong sense of ‘right and wrong’ that didn’t leave much room for improper behavior or poor grammar. Even still, he was the dad who would drive you through a snowstorm to get you to the ski slopes or from New York to New Orleans to see your cousins. He always put his family first. And made more sacrifices than we'll ever know to give us the best childhood he could. He taught me to golf, shoot skeet, build a deck, and he would have gladly taught me how to make his world’s-best pecan pralines if I had only had the sense to pay more attention. Over the years as our relationship shifted to one of friendship, he was good company, quite charming in fact. Like all of his children, he was always happy to see me, and always eager for time together as a family.
Looking back, I wish I had asked him more questions. I wish I knew more about his time as a navigator/bombardier on the B-47 Aircraft as a member of the Strategic Air Command Division of the Air Force. And I wish I had said yes to more rounds of golf and spent more time together boating at the lake.
But setting those wishes aside, I could not have wished for a better dad. 'Cheers dad. See you tomorrow.'