Hi, Dad!

You used to always say “Hi, Dee”on the phone in a Cary Grant kind of voice that I haven’t heard for a few weeks. Christmas came and went, there was no call and I didn’t even get to send you mincemeat for tarts.

You made magic wherever you went. You were not Santa, except for your kids in olden days with “some assembly required.” But for others and us you always made us believe that if we worked at it, anything was possible. It is a gift that makes the lives you’ve touched better, that people you’ve met can believe in themselves and make the world a better place with education and love.

The neighbors used to call on him every night to come out and play. Everyone on the street got to play. I’d carry a baby to base and back and the outfielders would purposely flounder to get her to home. YEA!

Now our home is filled with floral arrangements and trees from people who never knew your name, heritage, accomplishments except that I lost my Dad.

It is sad that it took your passing to bring together your “kids” after years apart after Mom died. As the eldest and working with your best bud we will try to keep this together in your memory.

There’s something you did not get to see, the Dancers charcoal sketch from a student art winner you gave me 25 years ago. I finally got it framed, beautifully, shortly before your death. I’m having others done of your life and works.

You always said you were proud of me and that I could be anything, an astronaut or president. I am proud of you, Dad, for inspiring everyone you knew to be all that we could be.

There is a photo of me at six months of age and you under 30 years old. We were at a picnic in the mountains. A strange dog came up. You held me close to keep me safe but reached out to let me know how and when to pet a dog, and all I wanted to do in my little mind was say, “Dad, let me pet the dog!”

I’ve been my father’s daughter all my life. That will not change. Challenging authority was what he did to save organizations and create change. He taught us to think outside the box and create solutions to complex problems.

I didn’t hear “hi, Dee” yesterday as I did see his body go into the ground. I still talk to him, however, no replies, but I can grieve this way. I would rather think of him as inspiration. He was, and is and will always be so.

In memory of my father, Dee



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