Welcome to the month that brings the first day of summer! It also brings Father’s Day and the 80th anniversary of D-Day, June 6th 1944. That’s him in the photo on the right. (Thanks for my sister, Marilyn, for getting it to me.)

Six days after the fiercest fighting of the D-Day invasion, my Dad’s Army battallion crossed the English Channel, landing on Omaha Beach in Normandy. From there, he and his battalion fought in the hedgerows of France. His battalion liberated many towns along the way to Germany and fought in the Battle of the Bulge, the last major German offensive in Europe. There, too, his battalion arrived after the deadliest part of the battle. I guess my sister and I were meant to be born!

Like most men who came back from the war, he didn’t talk much about the fighting. I do know that the worst that happened to him was a broken thumb from diving into a foxhole to avoid enemy fire. I also know he had many fond memories, mostly of the warm comraderie with fellow soldiers, some whom he continued to stay in touch with long afterward.
My father loved making others happy. He enjoyed serving his community. He served in the Lions Club for many years in California, helping organize and participate in various community projects such as paper drives (recycling newspapers) and building a Little League park in town.

He especially loved making people laugh. Many times at the family dinner table he would get us laughing so hard that we had a hard time stopping. God forbid that we were drinking milk at the time (I won’t say where that goes.) Sometimes we would laugh about what we laughed about for days.

I loved my Dad, to say the least. But when I became a teenager, my dad was no longer funny to me. He suddenly “became” silly. I was hesitant to invite my friends into my home. You see, I was going through psychological growing pains. I felt a need to change my demeanor from being a kid (cheerful, spirited, fun-loving, and, yes, even silly) to being cool (turned off, unfeeling, stodgy and cheerless). My dad became my “dud.”

But five or six years later, something changed, and it wasn’t dad. Mark Twain described a similar experience of his this way:

“When I was a boy of fourteen, my father was so ignorant I could hardly stand to have the old man around. But when I got to be twenty-one, I was astonished at how much he had learned in seven years.”

When I was 21 or so, I had broken free from the straightjacket I had bound myself in. I became more relaxed and accepting of myself (I was getting into yoga back then). I was more comfortable in my skin, and that let me be more comfortable with the man of my life who was comfortable in his skin.

Now I miss him…

When Nancy and I married, her father lived next door. In some ways, he became my East coast father. He was always willing to help and show me how to do things around the house. As a youngster, I wasn’t interested in learning or helping around the house unless I had to. I was more interested in sports and hanging out with friends. So Nancy’s dad had a lot to teach me. Her dad is in the photo on the right, dancing with Nancy at our wedding celebration party in 1990.

He built his home next door where Nancy grew up (circa 1950). He was the one who built the home Nancy and I live in (1965). He initially built it for Nancy’s maternal grandparents. (The yoga studio was added on in 1992; built by Hardwick Post & Beam.) Nancy’s dad did all this while having a full-time job.

Because he was around and so accessible, often checking on us to see if we needed help, or just wanting to have someone to talk to, sometimes I wasn’t grateful. I was working at home for my job at the time and often felt too busy (or was it self-importance?) to stop to chat.

Now I miss him…

May we all stay aware of the passing of time and stay present to and appreciative of those around us before it’s too late. Happy Father’s Day to my West and East coast dads wherever you are. Happy Father’s Day to all good Fathers, living and gone. You will always be in our hearts.

“The best gift a man can give to the world is to be a good father.” —Renee Daniels

“Being a dad isn’t easy…but when somebody does it right, it reminds the rest of us what a world-changing difference a good dad can make.” —Andrew Blackburn