Happy Memorial Day! I don’t get a lot of opportunities to write, or even talk about my father, but today of all days would be an appropriate day to do so. Dad died of a sudden-death heart attack when I was eleven years old. My sister, mother and I were all home when it happened. It was the worst day of my life. I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye, but my final words to him were, “I love you, daddy.”

What I will never forget was the eleven years I was lucky enough to have spent with my father. Dad was a Colonel in the U.S. Army. A 101st Airborne Division Ranger, he graduated from West Point and went on to fight in the Vietnam War, where he was awarded a Silver Star for his actions (2nd highest decoration in the U.S. Army). Of course, I never knew any of this until after his death, and to give you an example of his humbleness, he never even told my mother about his Silver Star.

What I remember about dad was that he was the most amazing father in the world. I can still feel the love he had for my sister and I. We were daddy’s girls. While most little girls were glued to their dolls inside their houses, my sister and I were outside with dad playing sports and riding bikes and fishing. He would teach us how to play baseball and encouraged us to just “get outdoors”. We did. At the same time he allowed us to be the girly girls we were and never failed to tell us how great we were at it, indulging in ballet, tap and jazz. Mom was, after all, a professional ballet dancer.

I remember dad taught me the importance of finances. Every time I earned money from allowance, he showed me my bank statement and where that money would go. And if I put that money in the bank he would match it, which would double it, and we would watch my bank account grow. Keep in mind I was only around nine years old when we did this.

He cherished our time together as family. He loved to tell us about our family history. He loved taking my sister and I to the Library and Congress and study our genealogy and tell us about our relatives who fought in the Civil War.

Dad was so wonderful to my mother. I witnessed their love on a daily basis. She was the first person he would run to and kiss when he got home from work, even while my sister and I clung at his knees and begged for him to kiss us, too. Of course he did.

He was overseas often for work, but would always bring us the most beautiful dolls back from Europe. These weren’t cheap, plastic dolls you get at a Toys R Us, these were beautifully hand-made dolls that you keep forever. I did.

Dad loved the computer and taught me about this new phenomenon called the “internet”. While I couldn’t grasp the idea of it as a child, I would listen to my dad try to explain it to me while I sat on his lap and he pointed and clicked the mouse around the screen. He was so patient with me. I loved listening to his voice. I’ll never forget it.

There are many memories and life lessons you can instill in your child at a young age. Even though I lost my father when I was eleven, his lessons to me have lived with me and will live with me for the rest of my life. Today I honor him for his bravery and his own honor to our country, and for setting the example to my sister and I of how to live a life of integrity, patience and love. He showed me the kind of parent I want to be to my own daughter, his granddaughter.

Thank you, Dad.