By the time the first Father’s Day was made official in 1966, my dad had been a father four times over, beginning with me in 1949. Eventually, three other children came along, but I had dad to myself for about 5 years before my brother was born. For a while, his job situation allowed him to be home during the day, so I hung with him instead of with my mom until he went to work in the afternoon. The smells that trigger warm childhood memories for me are not baking bread and apple pie, but lube grease and solvent for cleaning car parts (dad was an auto mechanic). He used to put me on the handlebars of a bicycle and ride me to school. No horror stories here of child abuse or mistreatment or emotional damage. I could not have asked for a better father... he still is a wonderful father. He did not turn into a cranky old man. At 80 he is still fun and full of life, and I love being with him. Dad loved to fish. The first birthday I can remember was when I was 3 years old and I got a fishing pole. And here we are on the banks of a river in the mountains somewhere in California. This scene was to be repeated many times over while I was growing up. A precious memory of a wonderful man. I love you Dad.
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