Out to breakfast at my favorite diner. There seemed to be a lot on this blog about dining.
That should come as no surprise to those who know me. I like to eat–it’s a challenge to enjoy fine dining and stay healthy.
Preparations need to be made for an extended trip out of town. There’s still plenty of time.
This Father’s Day, I’m content to take a back seat–watch children, grandchildren, nieces and nephews. If they attain success, then I’m happy.
What did I remember most about my father, twenty-two years after his passing?
Like other men of his generation, he wore hats. His favorite was a gray fedora. Fathers, back then dressed up more, than fathers do today.
Most in the community thought him to be extremely patient and even-tempered. They never got on his bad side–like I did, on occasion.
He was a man of faith. His relationship to his maker was most important. We read the Bible aloud, from cover-to-cover, in family devotionals–down to every begat, whereas, and wherefore.
His lame jokes, that made everyone cringe, notwithstanding; if it were possible, on this Father’s Day, I would tell him that his example made a difference.
Dad’s portrait taken in the mid-fifties.
Christmas morning 1976–Dad holding pair of slacks. My nephew, George Jr. is on the left. Mom’s hidden behind slacks. Happy Father’s Day to all the Dads!