Today my son turned 16. That was the last year that I had with my father. As John passes this year I will be in virgin territory. There are experiences I never had with my father that I will have with my son. And I am looking forward to each and every one of them.

I try to think back 29 years ago to what my father and I were to each other when I was 16. While I spent every day with my father and there was little he didn't do or let me have because of his health we were distant. In one of my journals back then I had written of how I would spend hours away from home just to avoid being around him. His stroke had affected his personality. While I can't recall specifics at the time I can clearly remember the hours I would spend sitting at school between the last bell of the day and chorus rehearsal. I would sit by my locker either reading or doing my homework all in an effort to avoid being at home alone with my father.

From about 10 years of age on my father and I always shook hands good night. I don't remember who's idea it was but I can clearly remember the first time it happened. I suddenly felt grown up. Kissing was for babies; I was a "young man" now and as I took my fathers hand for the first time I felt as grown up as he was. But that was the extend of a physical display of affection I ever got from my father. I can't remember him ever hugging or kissing me.

Don't get me wrong; I love my father and miss him every day. He still affects my life almost three decades later. Someone once said that the thing they remember most about my father was how his big, loud laugh would fill a room. Almost immediaetly I made a conscious effort to alter the way I would laugh and to this day take a moment to make sure I'm putting the right amount of effort into a laugh and drop my voice down an octave before even a snicker leaves my lips.

I use these experiences as a guide to my relationship with my son. I end every phone conversation with him with the words, "I love you". When he is here, or when I drop him off, I always hug and kiss him. I can't do alot for him financially right now, but I try to make up for that emotionally. I guess, after all, that's the more important anyway.

I never drove my father anywhere. I never cooked for my father. I never bought my father a bourbon. I never watched my father dance at my wedding. I never introduced my father to his grandson. I look forward to my son wiping out each one of those statements.