You've a great dad. Not that I wouldn't have guessed that already, from the way you turned out.

I spent several years living with Dad after Mom died. He wasn't nearly the man he was earlier in life; he was suffering from some kind of senile dementia, which they never did diagnose to anyone's satisfaction (including the doctor's.) Still, I heard a lot of stories, and I really treasure those years, as frustrating as they were.

I imagine that, at times, your pop can be a pain in the keister. Of course, that's part of the job description. Dads exist to keep their kids from doing what they want to do. But it's obvious that there is intense love going both directions. I just wanted to remind you that the sands are dripping through the hourglass, and you need to grab for all the memories you can, while they are still within reach.