I remember you teaching me to ride a bike, taking the training wheels off when I was ready.

I remember you picking me up when I fell.

I remember you taking me to Keystone Lake and teaching me how to fish.

I never liked putting worms on my hook

But I always liked sitting there with you, holding my fishing pole.

I remember you teaching me to swim, laughing at me when I didn’t like water in my eyes.

I remember you waving me to come out further in the ocean, telling me it was safe.

I remember you running to the Firehall when the whistle blew.

I remember going to parades and waiting for the purple firetruck to go by so I could wave to you.

I remember you working shifts at General Tire.

I remember you bringing home sports balls from the factory shop.

I remember your company picnics at Idlewild Park.

I remember you working in the garage, always fixing something or building something.

I remember how the sawdust from your table saw would always make me sneeze.

I remember how you loaned me your tools and showed me how to fix my own bike.

I remember how you would tease me about everything.

I remember helping you put the boat on top of the station wagon.

I remember helping you hook the camper up to the back of the car.

I remember helping you level the camper and hook up the utilities.

I remember you taking me out in the boat to fish.

I remember you telling us “Get in the car. We’re going for a ride.”

I remember you sitting on the porch on the warm summer days.

I remember you cooking the fish on Christmas Eve.

I remember so many hospital visits where we talked into the night.

I remember how hard you fought to stay strong.

I remember you slowly losing that battle.

I remember you drifting off to sleep for the last time.

I remember you taking your last breath.

I remember it all Dad.

Always, I remember you.