< link rel="DCTERMS.isreplacedby" href="http://echo9er.blogspot.com" > Echo9er: Father's Day

Sunday, June 19, 2005

Father's Day

Today is Father's Day and once again, Google has designed a great graphic and search list.

I remember Father' s day with the occasional picnic, and always giving my Dad a tie or a picture I drew in school. It seemed the thing to do, a picture or a tie. My Father passed away about 12 years ago, I still think of him, and even though he's not here, I say "Happy Father's Day, Dad."

I remember the Father's Days I missed with my kids because of my deployments of other military related duties that would take me away from home. I can only say that those sacrifices really were worth it. I have 2 GREAT kids, both adults now. My Son has his own business and is doing well with that and other interests also. My Daughter is now a Mommy, and she has done remarkably well also, celebrating with her husband his 1st Father's Day.

I think about the Dads out there fighting this Global War on Terror. I think about each one as I post a Casualty on these pages. I think about how those children will remember Dad and how brave he was to fight in a war that eventually provides freedom of choice to others.

So, check out those Father's Day links when you click on the Banner above. There are lots. But, rememeber your Father. Remember the Fathers that cannot be home to share the joy today. Remember to say "Happy Father's Day, Dad!"

Here is a poem I found that talks about Dad. Since he passed, I think of him often, and I thought this poem approriate:

My Father

When I was:

Four years old: My daddy can do anything.
Five years old: My daddy knows a whole lot.
Six years old: My dad is smarter than your dad.
Eight years old: My dad doesn't know exactly everything.
Ten years old: In the olden days, when my dad grew up, things were sure different.
Twelve years old: Oh, well, naturally, Dad doesn't know anything about that. He is too old to remember his childhood.
Fourteen years old: Don't pay any attention to my dad. He is so old-fashioned.
Twenty-one years old: Him? My Lord, he's hopelessly out of date.
Twenty-five years old: Dad knows about it, but then he should, because he has been around so long.
Thirty years old: Maybe we should ask Dad what he thinks. After all, he's had a lot of experience.
Thirty-five years old: I'm not doing a single thing until I talk to Dad.
Forty years old: I wonder how Dad would have handled it. He was so wise.
Fifty years old: I'd give anything if Dad were here now so I could talk this over with him.
Too bad I didn't appreciate how smart he was. I could have learned a lot from him.

Writer Unknown