July 31st, dad’s birthday. Hard to believe it’s been six years.

Dad was one of the few really ‘good’ people in this world. Not a mean bone in his body.
From a tiny house with no money, parents speaking Swedish and growing up during the Depression, only to be sent into WWII as a young man.
He was never rich, or close to it, but rose a long way from his very humble beginnings. We never had much but we never did without and he was happy. Happy with his wife and family and happy with his life. Compared to is childhood he lived like a king and his best friends were his family. I didn’t realize it at the time, but I learned SO much from him, mostly about nature and the outdoors. And I inherited his athletic ability that served me so well in this life.
Thinking about you today, as I do most days, dad, and I hope you know I love you.

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