Dear Dad:

my dad as a young man.

Dear Dad: there’s a lot to catch you up on.

You have fifteen beautiful grandchildren who are at various stages in their lives: married with kids, stumbling through adolescence, bounding through preschool and elementary school.

Your kids have managed to become pretty nice adults, all finishing specialized education, your son even finished his master’s degree. All are working hard to raise your grandchildren the best we know how.

The littlest grandchild, your youngest granddaughter,  is named after—you guessed it–is named after your favorite Neil Diamond song. One of the few remaining memories of you standing in the living room next to the enormous stereo (it had to be five feet wide and weigh eighty pounds) belting out some Neil with a cocktail in your hand.

My dad is the handsome one in the hat on the right, I am the little kid in the bottom right corner. One of the few photos the remain of us together, from one of those picnics on "The Hill."

I haven’t seen a stereo like that in years, and I sure wish I had those original albums as vinyl is en vogue now that everything is electronic.

There are so many days when our busy lives leave treasured slivers large enough for memories to creep in, that I wish you were here to see these kids and how amazing they are. The oldest is in Cub Scouts and loves to read just like I did as a kid; the middle one we gave our family name, Willoughby and he’s accordingly as stubborn as the day is long, yet adorable enough to forgive.

Our little princess looks just like I did when I was a kid–you’d crack up at her white, curly mop, constantly disheveled as she runs around with scrubby knees keeping up with her brothers while wearing a pink tutu.

Thanks, Dad for always telling me that I was super-smart, even though I think you may have been exaggerating a little bit, the encouragement you and mom gave me helped me get through college and even on some rough days running my business when I’m not sure I can do it. Thanks for loving music, too. I have a huge collection and now my oldest loves to listen to it all with me and is begging me to go to concerts with me, and it’s a neat little way to keep your love of song alive.

We know you’d rather be with us today Dad, but I’m confident you’re in a place that is wonderful, calm, and allows you the comfort you never were able to seem to find while on earth with us.  I have to believe that.

I’m going back to our hometown in a few weeks for my twentieth high school reunion–can you believe it?–twenty years. I can’t step foot there without thinking of you and our years on “The Hill,” family picnics, and driving in front of our old house. Even though you haven’t been here in over twenty-three years, right there you still are.

Happy Father’s Day, Dad. We love you.