A postcard with a picture of the famous Stonehenge ( giant
rocks arranged in a circle in the UK) arrived in the mail three
days ago.
It was my daughter’s Father’s Day greeting for my
hubby. “You rock!”, she scribbled on the
back of the picture.
I smiled at her attempt to capture in just two words what
her dad is to her. This in turn lead me
to think about my own dad. What sort of
a father was he and what he meant to me.
My father has been gone for more than 30 years and I go back
to that time when he was a very big part of my life.
