I can still see my dad lugging heavy boxes of books up several flights of stairs. His dark hair and beard made him look distinguished, even as he sweated under the weight of all my stuff. I loved his quick smile, full of wit, charm, and an impish humor. Dad was my moving man when I changed dorms in college and apartments as a young professional living in Philadelphia. I moved several times! “Why not live on the first-floor?” he’d ask but he agreed I was safer on the third. “Don’t you have enough books?” he’d laugh and his blue eyes would sparkle. Books were almost all I had (and heavy art supplies). When I got married and we moved into our first home, Dad helped haul in our new refrigerator, washer and dryer. And more books. He was much too young when we lost him. You’re my hero, Dad! Happy Father’s Day to all the amazing men in our lives.
Please share your favorite “DAD” stories!