...touched by the holy and beautiful light.

My friend Peyton talks about his daughter a lot – but I don’t mind. In fact I enjoy it tremendously.

She’s a cool kid – seriously – the kind of kid that even grown-ups enjoy spending time with. Smart as a whip – great sense of humor and can do really neat tricks with her mouth and an imaginary piece of string!

But what I enjoy most is the memories that seeing the two of them together conjures up – of another doting father and precocious blond girl – my Dad and me.

My Dad loved his kids. And I’ll bet that my sisters would agree that we each individually felt like his "favorite” – because that was how he made you feel – when you had his attention, you were the only person in the world that mattered at that moment.

And, like my friend, he talked about us all time. To his friends, to the neighbors, to his listening audience. Complete strangers would walk up to me and say, “now are you the sister who just got married, or are you the one who sings and dances?”

Once a few years back, I was invited to speak at a symposium in Amsterdam. Somehow, Pop got mixed up, and told folks that I was in Afghanistan! For weeks after my return, people would ask me about the desert. Pop would just smile and say – "Amsterdam/Afghanistan – who cares – my daughter is successful and world renowned!" Then it would be my turn to smile and shake my head.

But he was a proud Papa – proud of each of us for completely different reasons – even if he couldn’t remember our names.

I think my baby sister was five before she finally realized that her name was not Laurakathypaula. In the end, he just called all of us “Honey” – minimizing mistakes and avoiding us saying “Daaaaddd!”

My Dad has been gone for several years now - almost seven, although that does not seem possible.

And while there will certainly be family members who make the trek out to Fort Indiantown Gap to honor his memory -- I will not be among them.

For in my mind, my Dad isn't there -- he's all around me. I hear his voice in my head when I'm trying to make a tough decision. I see his eyes when I look at my sisters lovely faces, I can even hear him singing when old blue eyes comes on the radio.

And lately, just watching my friend interact with his daughter both relaxes and comforts me and makes me think of Dad.

So, this Father's Day I will pause to honor my Pop in my own way -- and in turn take a bit of time to remember all the men in my life who mean so much to me -- both friends and family alike.

Here's looking at you Pop -- scooby dooby doo!

A rose by any other name...

I can remember the day my baby sister, Paula, was born.

I cannot say that about any of my other siblings -- but I was almost five when Paula made her grand entrance -- and I remember the day fairly well, considering all the other childhood memories I've lost over the years -- mostly to make room for PIN numbers, users names and passwords.

What's funny is that the thing I recall most about that day is an argument I got into with my Dad.

You see, I had very specific ideas about what the new baby's name should be.

For some reason, I was convinced that new baby should be called "Julia" if it was a girl. I conceded that if it was a boy, Dad could finally have his junior and name the baby "Paul."

For days leading up to her birth, I danced around and told everyone I came into contact with that my new baby sister - Julia - would soon be here!

I was very excited.

When my Dad called home from the hospital to tell us that it was a girl -- I was ecstatic -- even to the point of making a big sign: "Welcome Home Julia!"

You can imagine my dismay when Dad came home later that night and announced that my baby sister's name was going to be "Paula."

This simply did not compute with me.

"But she already has a name -- Julia!"

"No honey -- we decided to name her Paula."

"But I already named her!"

This same conversation was repeated for two days, until she came home from the hospital. I had not yet resigned myself to the fact that her name was NOT Julia until Daddy settled me on the sofa and let me hold the new baby.

"Oh!" -- he recalled me saying, "she isn't a Julia after all -- she's a Paula!"

Dad said later, that he had no idea what I'd meant by that statement - but was relieved that I seemed to have accepted the baby's actual name.

Some years later, Dad mentioned that, at the time, there had been a popular TV show called "Julia" -- and the character's full name was "Julia Baker" -- and that was the reason I got out-voted. To this day, I've never seen the show.

Ah well...she IS so clearly a "Paula!"

And today IS her birthday.

Happy Birthday Julia ... err ... Paula!

Pomp & Circumstance

My nephew Mikey - who I am sure would prefer I call him Mike -- graduates from high school today.

He's a great kid -- full of fun - terrific personality, humorous, loves his sports, his baby sister and loves his Mom, my baby sister.

In a lot of ways, he's our family's pragmatist -- doesn't have a driver's license yet -- when pressed, he'll note that he "really doesn't need one." If Mikey discovered that he wasn't great at a particular sport or activity - no big deal - he'd move on and find that one where he could excel -- and excel he did.

The past Christmas Eve my sisters and their families and Brad and I were all sitting around after dinner playing a silly game -- a thinking game -- with questions on cards designed to get people talking. Watching Mikey take the lead in this game was among my greatest pleasures in 2008.

He jumped in when others struggled to answer questions, and REALLY thought about his own answers, showing insight and thoughtfulness well beyond his years. He worked hard to include everyone in the game - making sure everyone had a chance to speak and participate.

Hard to believe this was the same little kid who used to make me nuts a few years back -- begging to go home minutes after Mommy had dropped him off for a visit... of course, maybe that was more a reflection on ME? (tee hee).

Bizarre to realize that he's practically an adult now -- and heading to community college in the Fall.

Watch out world - here comes Mikey -- err...Mike!