Father's Day

I'm sitting here in my recliner on Sunday afternoon--my shoes and socks are at my feet, the Sunday paper too (no, the comics are not in the bathroom). From El Paso, Jessica mailed me a father's day card with some joke about "resting my eyes." Couldn't help but think of dad. There are so many things I miss: his hand rubbing my back until I'm asleep; his choked-back laugh/cry (though I've seen the family resemblance in some of you); his devotion to mom (and her's to him); his teasing that turned to needling that turned to frustration that turned to anger; his sweat pouring off his face as he stood at the grill, working hard so we could enjoy the feast; his laugh; and his massive hug and gentle "I love you son," anytime I departed. Thinking of our father in all of you.
I'm grateful.