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Eighty years ago my dad was born on this date, one week exactly before my birthday. 27 years later, i came down the chute. Dad had the strongest heart of any man i have met, with actual evidence of a record he broke during basic training and still holds on one of the exercises used to build endurance. Dad more than doubled the number of repetitions of anyone else in basic. At his funeral, we received a flag for his exceptional service in a CIA type of organization he worked for in the service. We knew nothing about it. Fighting a terminal disease called alcoholism, he worked his way into a legal consultant job for one of our state's biggest insurance companies in spite of never taking a course in law. He became a life master at bridge. Pastor Randy told me that after meeting Dad's friends at his funeral, he wanted to know Dad. Dad's friends told me how much he loved me (parenting tip: tell your kids while you are alive that you love them). Cleaning out his desk, i found a bazillion thank-you notes from Appalachian school children who only had school books because Dad sent them the money to get the books. Again, he never told us.

i have his flag less than two yards from where i sit, watch TV and sleep. He left me a library that i still have. My sister, who has always been a better person than me, cared for Dad during his last days. But God was compassionate, and literally fifteen minutes before he died, Dad hugged me. it was the first time we had a true conversation since my 13th birthday. And miraculously, a lifetime of feeling poured itself into that last fifteen minutes we had together. i feel like we had a relationship, even though Dad was what i have realized was afraid of me. His father and his father's father were mountain men in temperament, and love between a father and son wasn't part of their programming. I thank God that He let me love my son out loud. Dad was cool with my sister. He got her a Christmas ornament each year and talked to her for her whole life. Dad and I had no traditions, but again, one talk at the end of his life healed that gap. just think, fathers, how much you can mean in this world by simply talking to your kids. Anyway, this is my Father's Day. Now that Dad and God have chilled out for a while, i see many conversations with him when we meet up again. One generation can heal a century of loneliness. nothing my dad did out of fear was necessary with my kids. i have made mistakes, but they KNOW they are loved. and now, all these years after he left us, i realize i was loved too. where our missing skills are, God fills in if we let Him. anyhow, Happy Birthday, Dad. we'll talk soon