One of my earliest memories is of you reading me the Guidepost Treasury of Faith. I remember you smelled like Safeguard, Sandal Wood, and Gatsby.

The sun poured through our big living room window warming everything it fell upon.

I placed my head on your chest as you read. That enabled me to listen intently to the deep vibration of your voice as well as the beating of your heart.

I felt so safe…so loved. And so happy you were my Dad.

My childhood is full of these moments. Such moments sadly do not often find pen or page.

To this day I cannot recall the content of what you read to me. Instead, I have the more important memory: your voice, and the beat of a father’s heart.

Happy Father’s Day.