On this the three decade anniversary of my father's death, I thought it appropriate to share another memory.
My dad loved music. I rarely saw him happier than when he was tapping his foot or singing along with the radio
or one of the few records he owned. It might have been Dixieland or Tennessee Ernie Ford, but if he loved it, it showed.
I remember a few times our family would sit together and sing. In the car, in the boat, or in the living room somebody
would venture across the awkwardness of starting a song and soon we would all join. I think he would like this.
So, here's to you dad. This one's for you, ... and for me, ... today
