On Father's Day

This will be the fifth Father's Day without my father, and I miss him. Not that we did much to mark the day — a card, brunch with my husband and son and any siblings who could make the trek. He never wanted a fuss made over him about anything. I recently found a letter I wrote him one Father's Day, nineteen years ago, noting the things that made him a wonderful dad.

Among them were his sense of loyalty to family, his integrity, his "brains," the trips we took to Glen Echo Park, the pool, and his love of his newspaperman job. He didn't say too much about the letter other than a sincere thanks for it. But he started writing some of his own. On my 50th birthday Dad sent a card that said, "As you consider your 50th, with mixed feelings, it may be of interest that, at the age of 78, I am enjoying one of the happiest years of my life."

That's really the best gift, and one I want to remember in regard to my son and all those relatives younger than I: creating a happy life is the best thing you can do for yourself, and for your children.

The photo is of Dad and me at Deep Creek Lake in Oakland, Maryland.