I did not know my father as well as most. He was in the service when I was growing up and quite often gone. Before I was born he had been in the Merchant Marine and traveled around the world, he did not share these experiences with me, he wasn't much of a sharer.

When I was very little, around 7, he was stationed in Japan. That was a real treat, he would send me things from there, things I wish I had now. One of the most special was a Japanese Geisha doll. She was dressed in red and standing at an angle with a drum in her arms. I thought she was the most beautiful doll in the world. I entered her in a doll contest and won a silver dollar. I had tucked it away in her sleeve for safe keeping and forgotten it and found it several years later during a move. I did not at the time think of what it must have taken for him to find that doll for me. As children I guess we don't ever think of what our parents do for us, but now as I try to look back on my father's life I am trying to find the joy in the things he did do for me and find, that after all, he did love me in some way.

My mother told me once that my father always bought my presents. That for a birthday he would go out and specifically find me something he thought I would want. It surprised me, because he never let on that he did this. I still have one of the gifts he picked out for me. During the time he spent in Japan, he sent me a little girls Japanese costume. The silk kimono, tabbie slippers, the bustle in the back, even the little shoes with the blocks to walk on. I won a Halloween contest wearing it. We had neighbors who had spent time in Japan and she made my face up to look just like a Geisha. I think my father was proud of me that day, I know I was of him, for picking out such a wonderful gift.

I learned to read when my father was in Japan, I could finally get letters from him that were all my own. I waited so patiently for them and was disappointed when one didn't arrive every day. But when I did get that coveted letter, it was with me, either inside a book or under my pillow until another arrived. But... like all children when one came to replace the other, it was forgotten, thrown away, until now, when I wish I had all those letters a daddy sent to his little girl.

When my dad was stationed in Nevada we would go fishing. It was always good for me because I would get to be alone with him. Walker Lake was a tiny lake up in the mountains, nestled amongst the pine trees. It was always a quiet spot which was good for two people who didn't talk much. On one of those early times he let me hold the fish I caught. I was so scared and thrilled that I had actually caught a fish that I was squeezing it so hard that air escaped from its lungs. It made a squealing sound. I thought it was scared and screaming to be freed, I insisted we let it go. Now remember this is before people actually went fishing on purpose to let fish go. My dad, the great fisherman, who had a freezer full of what he caught, let me gently put the fish back in the water and watch it swim away. I have a feeling we didn't take many fish home that day. But.. we did go back and fishing on that lake is one of the nicest memories I have of him.

We also went hunting.... Once... we went with one of my dad's friends and I think his little boy. We were specifically looking for deer but a rabbit happened along first and my dad's friend shot it. He began to clean it right there in front of us, I was shocked and appalled and began crying over the little bunny. We didn't finish hunting, we left, his friend stayed there. It was fun trouncing along the country side with my dad, but killing animals was out for me. In the pictures that I just received from Ivah, that were found among my dad's things, is a picture of us in front of our tent. Yep, we're camping, every convenience there is, including lawn chairs. I can remember that trip well, I would go out with my dogs and explore, the first real freedom I had as a child. I nearly drowned in a bog, but I never told my parents that.

I lived with my dad and my step-mother Ivah for a while when I was going to college. Since I was a psych major I was going through this touchy feely stage and as my dad and I were doing dishes one night I told him I loved him. He had tears in his eyes and said that was the first time I had ever told him that. At the time I was dumb founded, how could a little girl not have told her daddy many, many times that she loved him. How could he not know that I loved him so very, very much. Then I realized he had never told me either. I was in my early twenties when this happened and I don't think the words "I love you" ever passed between us again.

My dad always had a stern face, something I see when I look in the mirror, I thought he was unhappy a great deal of his life. But I see that stern face looking at me now and I know that I am not unhappy. I wish I could have known what was behind it. He lived life as he wanted to or had to. I don't know what forces were behind him in the things that he did, but they were choices he had to make and unfortunately they were not always the best ones for the rest of us.

Nathan got to meet his grand dad a few times, we had a trip to the zoo where Nathan got to sit on his grand dad's shoulders. The happiness I saw on his face that day was incredible. He was at the zoo with his grandson and showing him around, loving every moment of it. We also met him at Disneyland. My dad had Annual Passes, he liked going to Carnation Plaza to hear the big bands play. I love that music too, in fact David and I had our first dance in Carnation Plaza. I remember my dad dancing there too and putting his little girls feet on top of his and dancing around the floor with her. I do know that I never went on the teacups with him again, he had a mean streak in him too.

I chose to have my daddy buried here, not only to have him near me, but I know that as a young man in the service, he and my mother would come here often. Those were the happiest times I hope for him, being newly married and in such a wonderful city as Washington DC. When I go to places here I always wonder, did my parents date here, did they sit on this bench and marvel at what a beautiful city our capital is. I look across the way to the Pentagon where my mother worked and my dad visited her and think that I have brought him home in some sort of way. My hope is that he has found peace and that his troubled soul can finally rest.

I would like to think he would be proud of me, that where ever he is, he is thinking... "my daughter turned out well, even though I wasn't always there for her. That I have two beautiful grandchildren and that a part of me will live on in them."

I also want him to know that.... I loved you, daddy, more than you ever knew.