Father’s Day seems a good time to reminisce.
I remember my daddy as a very hard worker—at work, around the house, out at the farm. Always working.
Sometimes on Sundays he would take me with him to the hospital for rounds to visit the new mommies. I loved seeing the babies, but it never made me want to go into medicine.
Once he took me fishing in Christmas Bay near Freeport, Texas, in a small motorboat—it was quite exciting when we caught a big sting ray.
I always loved horses and was so grateful for the times my daddy took me to the Dallas County Charity Horse Show. I got to stay till the end and watch the jumpers.
I’m sure my father deserves some credit for my editing skills—he corrected our grammar every night at dinner. I loved it—it was a game to me.
One of my favorite memories of my daddy is coming into the den late at night to find him reading one of the Great Books of the Western World. I imagine that is some of the source of my love of reading.
Thanks for the memories, Daddy.