06/21/2026
Father's Day used to be one of those days that always felt the same in the best possible way. We would gather at either my parents' house or ours, and everybody would come together for the day. My mom and dad would be there, my sister and nephew, me and the boys. Somebody would be carrying food in and out of the kitchen, the smell of something on the grill would fill the air, and the kids would be running around the yard while the adults visited. Looking back now, those days seemed so ordinary at the time, but they're some of the memories I treasure most.
If there was a grill involved, my dad was usually standing beside it. He was the grill master of the family and somehow managed to keep an eye on the food while also keeping up with every conversation happening around him. What stands out to me now isn't necessarily what we ate or what gifts were exchanged. What I remember most is the feeling of being together. Nobody was in a hurry. Nobody was rushing off to the next thing. We were simply spending time with each other, and for my dad, I think that was always enough.
My dad was one of the hardest working men I've ever known. He spent his life making sure his family was taken care of. My mom, my sister, me, his grandsons never went without. He wasn't the kind of man who talked about his feelings all the time, and he wasn't somebody who constantly said, "I love you." Instead, he showed it. He showed it every day through the life he lived. He worked hard. He provided. He fixed what needed fixing. He helped people whenever he could. If someone needed plumbing work and couldn't afford it, there was a good chance my dad would find a way to help anyway. That's just who he was.
One of my favorite memories is sitting on the porch swing with him...
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