Dad and his family: a classic family portrait, c. 1954.It’s been a long, long time since I said “Happy Father’s Day” to my dad. He died young, at age 62 (a day before his 63rd birthday), in October 1976, of lung and liver cancer. He was a #1 dad and family man. He worked hard at his business, loved music, tennis, food, his Oldsmobiles (hot convertibles!) and, most of all, loved our mom. Here’s to my Dad, and to my mom and my brother Loren, hoping they are connected somewhere, somehow, in the great beyond. Here’s to wonderful memories of growing up in Rochester, New York, and of annual family visits with my kids. My Dad dearly loved his grandchildren, gave them everything he had and more, especially values that see us through life, like honesty and loyalty, love of family and family traditions. The grandkids, all of them, my sister’s too, brought him great joy. Nothing made him happier than seeing them, having us gather, the whole family together. Miss you Dad.
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