Father's Day

I have decided to post the same photo here that I posted on Facebook.  It is of my Dad and my Uncle Eddie.  The last time I saw my beloved Uncle, we sat out in his backyard and he told me that he remembered me always calling him "Uncle Eddie."  He said he liked that very much.  So . . . he will continue to be referred to that way.

My Dad was a loving and patient man.  This photo is so typical of the man I knew.  He was most at home in the outdoors, and loved to sit around and chat with his loved ones.  He longed to live back in the old days of the West, when time moved slowly and people did things the old fashioned way.  When, as he always said, "you could throw a rock and not hit anything." 

Dad was master of many things, and bragged about none of them.  He was an expert marksman and taught Skeet shooting in the Marine Corp. during WW11.  He was a Firefighter for Provo City for over 30 years.  He loved to hunt, fish, ride horses, and spend time with family.  He called me "Mego" because when I was little, everytime he would get his coat out of the closet, I would run to get mine, and yell  "Me go, Daddy.  Me go!"  The name stuck. 

Happy Father's Day to you, Dad!  Thank you for your unconditional love and your laugh and your sparkly blue eyes.  And thanks for staying so close to me right now.  I know you are with me.