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img_0263Today would have been my Dad’s 85th birthday. I wish I could write about our long years together, the joys we shared, his interests and accomplishments, but at 28 he died in an accident. I was four and a half. That’s not a lot of time to build memories of a parent, and I want to remember more than I do, but here are some random thoughts:

  • He had a goofy sense of humor and he and my mum laughed a lot together.
  • He was brilliant.
  • He’d always wanted a Great Dane, so my 4th birthday present was…a Great Dane.
  • He was a nomad like the rest of my family–born in Kansas, living in several states before going to high school and college in Maryland, on to Alaska and Germany.
  • His college best friend loved him so much that he dedicated a murder mystery to him 50 years after he died.
  • He liked The Weavers (me too).
  • I have his smile.

Happy birthday, Daddy. Love you.

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