My dad would have been 71 this year. He passed away in September of 2011. I see him still in so many places: in a man walking his dog, a Marine Corps bumper sticker on the back of a car, the image of a wolf, a jigsaw puzzle, the books on my shelves, a taste of lemon pie, a war or action movie, the mountains on the horizon that I see on my way to work every day, my daughter's eyes, and in some of my own words and mannerisms. I hear his voice sometimes. I know he would be proud of my brother and me. He would also be proud of my mom and my half-sister, and most especially his two granddaughters. Miss you, Dad.
My dad, brother, Huppy, and I at Donner Pass, 1985
(Camping was one of my father's favorite hobbies.)
The graduate, June 1986
(My dad, a career Marine, had been told by his teachers in high school he wouldn't survive college. Years later, he was so proud to prove them wrong, a straight A student, receiving his Associates degree in Accounting.)
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