Whenever I think of Memorial Day - the men and women whose lives we honor and celebrate because of their willing and selfless sacrifice, I remember my daddy. He was the most wonderful person. I miss him so much. He fought in WWII in France and Germany, ending his tour of duty by helping to liberate the awful terrible death camp: Dacchau. Daddy, like so many of the great generation, never talked much about his accomplishments. He returned from the war, married, raised two little girls into adulthood, provided generously for us, protected us fiercely, and prepared us for the world. I owe a lot of who I am, the bit of confidence I have to my daddy.

After working in the oil industry in South America, where I was born, England, and Norway he returned to Table Rock Lake in Missouri where he retired. Ten years ago he went HOME to be with Jesus. I miss you daddy.