Father's Day

I figured I'd be better off getting this out rather than keeping it in.

This past weekend was Father's Day. Since my dad died 17 years ago, and since I don't have kids of my own, I don't really think about Father's Day as such...

For some reason, though, I found myself thinking about my dad more than usual. Nothing really mind-blowing or anything, but he was often in my thoughts.

The other night, while watching "Breaking Away", I noticed a smell of stale cigarettes, and asked Sheryl if she smelled it. She didn't. No biggie, except it sort of smelled like my dad. I said "Hi Dad! Happy Father's Day!" Within ten minutes, the smell was gone.

Last night, I was laying in bed, looking out the window. Because of the seasonal late sunsets, the sky was still light. I was reminded of summers as a kid, and how much I loved the warm, extended twilights. Again, I found myself thinking of my dad, and the beautiful August night (August 9, 1976 - to be exact) he let me stay up late to watch John Candelaria of the Pittsburgh Pirates throw a no-hitter against the Los Angeles Dodgers. I remember knowing - whether it was dad who had told me or not - the significance of the feat... knowing that I might never see another one in my lifetime.

(Oddly enough, in 1993, I was at the Astros game when Darryl Kile threw a no-hitter against the New York Mets)

I hope that whatever my dad is doing now, he is truly enjoying himself. I hope he knows that I appreciate him more and more as I get older.

And I appreciate those memories more and more as well...