I read a Father’s Day tribute by one of the local newspaper’s writers; she writes book and music reviews, and interviews musicians coming to the area. She did a great job of capturing her relationship with her father over the decades. It was very sweet. It made me think about my dad, Norman, and how our relationship changed over the decades. He went from my protector to my teacher to my bank to my friend and confidante, and probably back to my bank a few times, and eventually to my buddy and my charge, but through all of that he was always my hero. Just putting up with my mother and my siblings was heroic. But as I look back I realize his life wasn’t always easy, money was tighter than they ever let on to me, and yet we always had what we needed and most of all, we had fun.

I hear him in the form of my ever-present blue jay when I work in the yard, envisioning him as my on-site supervisor. I’ll be hosing off dirt in the driveway, remembering how he was a crazy man with the hose, and the jay will squawk at me and make me laugh.

I’d make Paella on Father’s Day. It was his favorite, loaded with lobster, sausage, shrimp and littlenecks. His smile and his effervescent, “Oh, boy!” made the work worth it.

He’s been gone almost 4 years now, and it’s becoming easier to remember him from my younger years, not just the last months of his life. But even then, with all of his pain he still found joy. Mostly in playing cards with his niece and nephew and me, and his bright smile when we’d walk in the door was proof. I keep hearing him lookup at me and say, “Hiya, baby!” I don’t ever want to forget how that sounds and expect that’s what I’ll hear first when I finally leave this mortal coil.

So here are some pics of Norman that make me smile.

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I hope you all have a wonderful Father’s Day. Kiss ‘em if you got ‘em.

Deborah