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Dad's Memorials

This past Sunday was Dad's Memorial 2.0 (1.0 was held back last summer in Old Saybrook).  We held this event down at the Elks Club in Bradenton, Florida.

It was the chance to see old friends, folks I didn't know and folks I only knew of by name.  Dad had a lot of good people around him.  From Louis Free (a kind and gentle man) to Mark Maguire (a man full of life and love for Dad) to Peg (who may have dated Dad but couldn't compete with Sandy, and who was encourage by Dad to move into management as a woman in the 70s), it was a blast and honor getting to speak with these folks.

Family from Alaska came, like all of them.  Amazing.  It had been far too long to see Kyle and Dusty.  It's amazing how alike we all are - just when you think you're brand of crazy is yours...

I gave a short speech, thanking folks for coming and told of the story of what I think distills my Dad.  It was a story about him teaching me to sail.  It was a bright and warm day in Watch Hill, RI with the shimmering sea making small waves as Dad loaded me into the 12' sailing dinghy and pushed off.  I sat there, as I usually did, crying my eyes out, shouting things like, "I am not ready for this".  Anger and fear all wrapped up in one emotion.

This would be how I learned to swim, ride a bike, ride a motorcycle, drive a car and so on.  Dad would put me in the thick of it and push off.  "Time to figure it out".  And I would.

The tears would give way to smile and confidence, yelling, "look, Dad, I am doing it."  Like I held the key and offering the old man no thanks for making me do it.  Silly kids.

It was a day Dad would have loved.  The people he'd impressed, made laugh and inspired all came to show us he meant something to them as well.

There's something to be said about my brothers and sister.  They inspire me so much - from dealing with the emotion of the day to sharing their own stories of Dad and what he meant to them.  I am constantly surprised at how connected to them I can feel.

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