June 12, 1943
From the shores of Mallard Point, to the bridle paths of Eagle Rock Reservation. From the Gordon Cup and being the only one who could skate backwards, to the Air National Guard and being the only one who didn’t drink. From the ‘61 Corvette Fuelly to the ‘63 Corvette split-window, to almost making it cross-country in a ‘59 Austin Healy with no roof.
From having Duncan and almost losing him to the curveballs life throws us all, to having me and almost losing me to the curveballs I threw you, to having Kacie and never coming close to losing her despite the fact that she IS a curveball.
From basketball games to sparring classes, from Epcot to Ridin’ High, from making tapes of Robinson Crusoe and The Last of the Mohicans for the rare bedtime you’d miss to making backyard zip-lines where I swear you ran up the side of that tree.
From stealing your ties and stealing your socks, to hearing your jokes come out of my mouth and seeing your face when I look in the mirror.
From starting out as a boy who idolized you to ending up as a man who still does.
From there to here, Dad.
Happy Birthday.
Love y’all.