Remembering Dad on Father’s Day

My dad died over 30 years ago, 2 years before my mother passed. He was a Navy man.

As a child, we moved around a lot. Mostly we lived along the Eastern Seaboard, from Canada to Florida. There were a few other posts, Hawaii and Quagaline in the Pacific. To me, he seemed to work all the time. I don’t recall him ever taking a vacation, a real vacation.

When he retired from the Navy, he got employed with the U.S. Post Office and he worked for them until he died.

I remember him being present at my high school graduation. He was so proud. And I remember him at my wedding. Another proud moment for him.

He was not an overly affectionate person, but you could always tell when he was happy. He was good to us, provided for us and saw to it that we got what we needed. He never raised his hand in anger against my mother. That just wasn’t the kind of person he was.

When he died, my mother was devastated. And she soon followed him to heaven. They are buried next to each other, as they would have wanted.

I know they are both happy and at peace. I can imagine them smiling down on my brother and me, happy for us both.

Miss you, Dad.