I used to get pretty upset with my Dad, because he would dominate any room with his robust tales of life, his corny puns, and his joy at being in the limelight. It was very difficult to get a word in edgewise.

Now I am almost the age when he died, and when I look into myself, I realize a lot of who I am is much like he was. And I love him for it!

I have no children, however I dearly hope that all the people who’s lives I have touched feel my love for them and will also forgive my foibles, as I have forgiven my Dad.

An artist drew the caricature of Dad during WWII. My picture was taken in 1941.