I didn’t know him as an airplane pilot or airplane mechanic, small engine repairman or insurance salesman.
I didn’t know him as a brother, uncle or son, or as a husband, son-in-law or brother-in-law.
I didn’t know him as a house painter, screen door fixer, lawn mower, or light-bulb replacer. Or as a banjo player / barbershop quartet singer, neighbor, friend, or as a ballroom dancer. Yet he was all those things, to other people.
To two-year-old me he was just a marvelous big creature who loved me. He was a smiler. A carrier-on-the-shoulder. A hugger and tickler who got down on the floor and played baby dolls with me, or wound up the wobbly spinning top for me, over, and over…
View original post 709 more words