Friday Flashback for 15 June 07
For Father's Day, my sister and I would get Dad some pretty, um, interesting gifts.
One year, Tori gave Dad an ashtray, despite the fact that Dad had quit smoking years before. Of course, there was always the compliment of ties and tie-tacks and socks. We even tried the breakfast in bed thing, but Dad never liked to eat in bed, so he'd get up and come to the table in the kitchen to eat.
We sure could have used those gift cards that are so popular now back then. Then Dad could've gotten something he really needed. But he always appreciated everything we gave him, and probably kept everything until the day he died. Dad was a packrat that way.
My dad was a sentimental man. And on this Father's Day, just like the ones over the past seven years, I will think of him and be a little sad.
Miss you, Dad.
That's all from where I sit.