Today is Father’s Day, a day to celebrate all the dads out there. Happy Father’s Day to my son, Matt Manos, who is a super father. Just ask his children.
I think of my father every day but on this day, there is a particular vacancy, because Dad isn’t here and I can’t hear him sing those old songs, see him dance a jig, or bake him his favorite pie. But, I can remember. And I do. This Father’s Day, I’m re-printing last year’s post because all these things are still true.
His character was as strong as the Rock of Gibraltar. He was stubborn and he could be stern. He didn’t talk an awfully lot but he had a keen sense of humor and liked a good joke. And whatever he said, I knew was the truth. The whole world might be wrong, but not my dad. He was always right.
Bob Day wasn’t a large man, just average size but lean and tough, sort of like good saddle leather. He took up a large space in my heart and life and now that he’s gone, I miss him more than I have words to say.
Dad loved playing horse shoes and in the side yard of my parents’ home there are still indentations where horse shoes hit the ground around the stobs. His favorite plant of all the flowers was the yucca in the corner of the yard. I think it reminded him of the western states.
Dad’s old work-day hat hangs on my hall tree. I don’t need to look at it to be reminded of him but somehow, I feel better knowing it’s there – more secure, I guess. If he were here, I’d bake him his favorite pie, coconut cream, and get him some sort of small gift. He’d give me a hug and say, “Much obliged.” I miss him every day, but particularly on Father’s Day.
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