It’s been a week now since “Our Father Who Art in Chino Valley” left behind a legacy of love, humor and integrity. I’m still numb from losing him, but feel my hero’s spirit is smiling down upon this heartbroken soul. My love for him poured out as I wrote his eulogy. It was vital toContinue reading “15 Percent Was Just Enough to Say Farewell”
His eyes don’t focus as they once did, but the twinkle in them remains bright. Cochlear nerve damage from piloting a small plane for hundreds of hours has silenced the magic of his classical guitar and velvet tenor voice, yet his laugh is strong. Not even the loss of his beloved wife of 52 years has dampenedContinue reading “Dad, My Pilot Hero”
Back when television consisted of four or five channels, with midday programming limited to soaps, we depended on an active imagination to avoid idleness. My dad loved to hear me say “I’m bored”. It gave him a break, because he sentenced me to hard labor if I dared whine “there’s nothing to do!”. There was no recourse; if I said it, he had an instant cure for boredom: a long list of chores. Thanks to Dad, I learned to pursue creative endeavours and invent adventures.