Always in the truck with the windows down, going to get a hive if bees in a tree or a house. He did not sing on key, but it did not matter to me. The love and acceptance and the fact that I was included in these adventures and able to watch him harvest the amazing creatures in his spacesuit, that was all that mattered. I can still feel the warmth of the sun on my skin, hear the love in his voice and smell the honey and pollen from the bees.

There was so much more, I watched him build a business of his own, with his hands, working with wood.  I was able to help with my mom evenings and weekends around the wood shavings and stacks of wood and tools. I learned how to use tools and love the look and smell of wood can appreciate the hint of oak flavor in bourbon and wine. He was humble and quiet, but when he passed away, the number of people that told stories of how he came and fixed things for them at their house or business was countless. He never talked about doing these things for people. He just quietly did them.

I do not remember him attending sporting events. But I remember seeing him on his knees by his bed praying and sitting at the table with his Bible open.

He never missed church on Sunday, and he went to visit his mother every Sunday after church as far as I can remember.

I felt when he was gone, it was up to me, to carry on, try to be that light to people, better, brighter, to my family and those around me. I think about it all the time when I remember him singing this song to me. I was his sunshine. It is up to me to pass this legacy on to the next generations. And to the people whose lives I touch.   

Happy Father’s Day, now and forever!