Miss you to the moon and back sweet Daddy O. I feel you with me and look to you for your guidance. Today, we celebrate you from New Zealand. Give Mom a hug for me. Xoxo

For me, New Years Eve will forever be a celebration of you.  I always told you that the whole world celebrated you and your birthday--and they'll do that again this year. 

I rely upon your wisdom and life's lessons on the regular.  While I don't miss you any less, my heart becomes fuller with your spirit and our memories together.  

No doubt that you've settled in nicely in Heaven, and surrounded yourself with Mom and others that we all love that have gone before us.  You are the brightest star in the sky and I love you to Heaven and back again.  xoxo 

I still miss you terribly Daddy O', but now the memories come mostly with smiles instead of tears.  I know that you're smiling down on us all because I can feel your presence.  Always our hero and forever in our hearts.   

It's hard to believe that a year ago today we lost my sweet Daddy.  Each day does get a bit easier, but the world isn't the same without you in it.  I hold onto all of the wonderful memories and the way that you enriched every life that you touched, in an effort to bring comfort to my heart.  Fly high sweet Daddy and always know how much you are loved.

Here we are just a few days before Christmas, and I'm missing you and your delightful spirit terribly.  Know that you are in our hearts and we feel your presence shining down on us as we celebrate the treasures in our life and count our blessings.  Love you to Heaven and back dear Daddy O'  

Camping
Dad often took the family camping, and one trip was particularly meaningful.  He took me, Lee and two of our good friends, Diane and Jim to Arizona over spring break.  We set out to see the cliff dwelling Indians.  We camped very near to a reservation.

One afternoon an Indian from the reservation came over to the fence of the camping area and asked Dad for some money.  Dad told us kids that if he gave him money it would probably be used for no good.  So he walked over to the campsite; made the guy a bologna sandwich and grabbed a bag of Fritos. 

The image of the Indian eating the sandwich and chips, and the lesson of kindness that Dad showed us is forever etched in my mind.

Life in the Valley
Our valley home was a place for family gatherings, and football games in the street. We kids decided that we needed yard markers in the street to make the field "official" and low and behold there was dad helping us measure and paint the yard markers. Those yard markers were still there in 1991 when mom and dad moved to Ventura.  

Pool parties for family and friends were also a major draw. When mom and dad were off at work, the kids would take running leaps off of the roof into the pool. Luckily we all survived that, and dad never found out. 

Friends
Wherever dad went, he made friends. It never ceased to amaze us kids. We would walk into the plumbing store with him and everyone would give a hearty welcome, smile and hello to Frank. The grocery store was the same, along with the bike store and most of the folks in his Ventura condo. It seemed to us that everyone loved dad. This was because dad loved life and spread his smile and happiness to all those he met.

Dad enjoyed our friends as much as we did. Dad loved to banter back and forth with Mike's buddies Jim Brown, Jim Brady, Grant Webb and Larry Fitzgerald. When they were young men with all the answers, they would share with dad. He engaged them and smiled that smile that said "OK we'll just have to wait and see".

There was nothing he enjoyed more than loading all the gear on board, and setting off for a camping trip with the kids and their friends. We camped in the Sierras, the desert Southwest, the Grand Canyon, Yellowstone and the Northern Rockies.

Dad loved to give nick names to our friends. He called Diane Eskridge "Dianeeeee!", and Jim Yorke "James Tetanus Yorke" (not sure how he came up with that but we all loved it).

Many years ago in my 17th year, Dad, Lee and I along with two of my friends took a backpacking trip to the Grand Canyon. All five of us, along with all our backpacking gear drove in Dads 1958 VW. It was Easter break of my senior year of high school and it was cool when we arrived. We spent that night camped out on the rim and started down the Kaibab Trail after breakfast the next morning. After hiking for most of the day, we arrived at a campground downstream from the Phantom Ranch. It was beautiful in the canyon and very warm, about 90 degrees as I recall. We spent the week doing day hikes and swimming in Powell Creek where it intersects with the Colorado River.
We were lucky to be on the beach when the 'Woman of the River' Georgie Clark stopped during one of her trips down the Colorado. She guided trips down the river beginning in 1945. Dad knew all about her, and told us about her exploits.
On the day before we hiked out, the local ranger came to our camp and asked if we had been drinking the water from the campground. We had. He let us know that a septic tank was leaking into the water supply and not to drink. Too late, we had been drinking it all week with no ill affects.
The next evening, after dinner we began our climb to the rim. We were all young and in great shape, and made the hike in hours. At the rim, we all started to feel the sick. Imagine the drive from the south rim to the San Fernando Valley with five sickies stopping every few miles to be sick. A memorable ride. We all survived to tell the story and to make many more backpacking trips with Dad. He instilled a love the outdoors that we all enjoy to this day. Thanks for the great memories Dad.