Happy Father's Day Dad. From your daughter who likes to remember the old days.

I am often guilty of romanticizing the past and pining for days gone by. My parents must have done an awfully good job of making life carefree for us kids because I never felt that their lives were a chore or that raising four kids was any great hardship. Even tho....in the early days dad worked two jobs, the nine to five grind with long commute to the city at Bell Federal (remember the big lighted bell sign on the corner?!) and a night/weekend gig as a banquet waiter at the old McCormick Place. We had one car and a small new house in the south 'burbs. Mom would drive us to the station where we'd sit in the un airconditioned car and wait for dad's train to pull in. We'd spend the time listening to the radio (classic crooners, none of that hippie stuff) and try to spy dad coming off the train. Years later his trek home was to walk from work to the train, then grab a bus that would drop him off at the end of our street. We loved to stand in the living room window to see who would be the first to spy dad coming down the block. Even when he would be walking home in the dark, we would strain to catch a glimpse of him in suit, tie, pocket square, and hat, carrying the daily paper. I don't recall him ever being tired or grumpy. He would hand off the Chicago Daily News which he read on the train but save the "funnies" to read to his girls. If it was Friday he inevitably quizzed us at dinner, "guess what I had for lunch today?" To which we would all reply, "a stein of beer, a bowl of clam chowder soup, and a fish sandwich!" Either all Fridays were still meatless back then or Dad observed the tradition regardless.

Our house was modest, our vacations simple, our priorities were straight. Faith and family. Love and kindness. Dad didn't amass a great bank account or a cushy retirement. He gave all he made to provide for his family. He loved his wife, I especially thank him for that.