"Tell my father that his son
Didn't run, or surrender.
That I bore his name with pride
As I tried to remember -
You are judged by what you do
While passing through ..."
DAY 254: My father passed away in 1985, a day before Thanksgiving, at the much too early age of 48. Not too long ago I passed him in years ... in fact, I'll be turning 50 in about six months. It's been 25 years since he's been gone, and I still get a twinge when I pass the Father's Day section of the greeting cards leading up to the holiday and particularly on Father's Day itself. We were not especially close, though we were not distant - in fact, as I've posted here before, there was probably a GREAT deal we had in common. I have been told time and time again that I am my father's son, and I am CERTAINLY grateful for everything in me and everything that I am that he helped to create.
PS ... I also used this photo back in March, on my Dad's birthday, but it's the only one I've got.