Father's Day

Tomorrow is Father's Day. I miss my dad, and I miss Larry's dad. They were alike in a lot of ways. Neither of them would ever rate a listing in Who's Who. They didn't even graduate from high school. But they were the kind of men that make this country work. They served in WWII; they loved their wives and children; they worked hard to provide for their families (even if their jobs weren't satisfying or fulfilling); they were active in their religion and helped those who needed help. And they told great stories. I remember lying in the back of our old station wagon in the dark while Dad drove through the night, regaling us with the continuing saga of Frisky the squirrel, taking him from birth to the eventual forest fire that forced him to run for his life. Dad Hill had a million truck-driving stories, full of humor and narrow escapes. Both men were truly good people who mattered.
Now my husband is Chief Dad in the Hill family, and he carries on the tradition of greatness. He taught band for 35 years and changed hundreds of lives. Parents loved coming to his concerts, both for the music and his jokes. He serves faithfully in his church callings, even when he doesn't like them. He waits on me hand and foot (right now that's literally) and he actively looks for ways to help others. He's the one who says, "Everyone help clean up" after dinner, and he's the one who spent hours yesterday playing Wii and ping-pong with the grandkids and then watching a movie he didn't care about so Mira could fall asleep on his lap. He won't ever be in Who's Who either, but he is now and always will by my hero.