The greatest man I've ever known...

was my father. He passed away when I was barely 13 years old. He was 52 years old and 8 months. I'm 52 years old and 10 months. He was almost the exact same age as I am now when he died from a heart attack. His heart attack was because he had a defective heart valve caused by the rheumatic fever he had when he was three years old. He was scheduled for experimental heart valve replacement surgery at Stanford Univeristy in September 1968. He died August 1968.

What do I remember about my father? He was fun, probably the most fun person I've ever known. He loved to tell stories and he was always joking around. Whenever there were family get togethers or friends over he was the life of the party. Everyone listened intently to his stories and cracked up laughing. I remember people laughing so hard they would be crying and coughing, bent over with laughter because he really was a great story teller. He was passionate about hunting and fishing and many of his stories involved things that happened on those excursions. He got more out of life than anyone I've ever known.

I've missed him for forty years. I wonder what life would have been like if he'd lived to an old age, like my mother. I wonder how much better my mother's life would have been if her soul mate she'd been married to for 33 years hadn't left her when she was only 49 years old. My father is a bitter sweet memory for me. Sweet because he was such a wonderful person, bitter because his life ended much too soon. Dad, I hope you and mom are up there in heaven, together at last. And Dad, Happy Father's Day!