My dad, my son, and me.

I spent many a Father’s Day on the Outer Banks of North Carolina. It always turned out to be the time that my family would vacation there. We did it for more than three straight decades. Father’s day cards would be hung up throughout the kitchen and main room of the beach house … at first, in those early days, they would be only for Dad … then, soon enough, my brothers would be represented in mix, then finally me. Of all the gifts my dad gave to me, the gift of being my father is the one I hold closest. I try, every day, to live up to the standard he set.