"And in the end, it’s not the years in your life that count. It’s the life in your years." – Abraham Lincoln

Daddy was born on Christmas day, so this day holds several meanings for me, one of which is all about him, his
grocery lists and luggage tags, all those
monogrammed pancakes, camping in that
trusty pop-up Nimrod, and much, much
more. So much of what I write is his story, and my story of him, all these too many years after his untimely
death at age 53 in 1980.
Happy birthday, Daddy. You would have been 80 years old today. Thanks for being my individualized, personal, 24/7 guardian angel all these many, remarkable, full – and yet lonely for you – years.