Today my Daddy would've been 83 years old. He's been gone eight and a half years. I miss him dearly and think of him often, though not as often as a couple of years ago. That makes me sad to realise that I don't think of him daily anymore. He was a good man, had sound advice. Enjoyed a hearty debate. So much has changed since he died. Mom sold her house and bought a patio home. Brother got divorced. Sister got divorced and remarried. My oldest got married. He had a laugh that is still memorable. He loved to pull jokes, especially on Mom.
When we leave someone's house I will say, "gotta go, gotta go" like he would. When I leave Mom's or a relative's house, I honk my horn as I pull away, just like he did. As I drive down the road, I will look at people in their cars and wave, just like he did. I miss him calling me, Sherri Jane.
Don't get me wrong, he was a disciplinarian. He could be stern when necessary. He taught high school biology and coached basketball, football, and golf. He taught learning impaired children during summer school. He loved working with kids. He didn't make much money and truth be known we were probably on the edge of poverty, but we never knew it. Spent so many nights in the gym and riding the bus going to ball games. The smell of popcorn still brings back memories from those days so long ago.
I'm so happy I have these memories.
Happy Birthday Daddy