What’s the Story, Morning Glory?

For Sir on Father’ Day 2017 My love of reading I will always attribute to my mother. It’s my dad who made me a writer.

I still have his copy of Roget’s Thesaurus from his college days and won’t use any other version. When I worked for him as a legal secretary during college breaks, like any word lover, I delighted in learning the legalese, especially hearing it in his voice through the tiny Dictaphone.

That’s not the point of this story though. The real story is about summers on the Jersey Shore when I was little. One summer (I thing it was Ortley Beach), my Dad and I were constructing some sort of sand pile, and the whole time I was telling him some convoluted little kid story. He asked me questions while we packed in the sand, made a little moat, and filled it with water. I can still feel the grainy wet sand against my legs, and the firmness of the sand as we tried to pack in into some kind of tower shape.

But what I remember most is his attention, his presence. That he was there and that he cared enough to listen to my childish babbling. I feel the same today. That he is there.

The thought that this will someday not be true is simply more than I can bear to contemplate.

My father is an exceptional and highly recognized lawyer, which is fitting because he has always been my strongest advocate.

He is currently Of Counsel at a prominent firm in New Jersey, and he mentors several younger lawyers. I hope they know how lucky they are. I have a feeling that they do.

Happy Father’s Day, Sir. You’ve been around for 75 years and lived a whole life before my arrival. But you’ve been my father for all of my 50 years. My forever. My benchmark, my protector, my teacher. I am so proud of you in so many ways, and I hope, despite of all the ridiculous messes I’ve made in my life, that in some small way, you are proud of me too.

Out of respect for your (non) enjoyment of poetry, I have opted not to include a poem with this post. Just this.


All love, always and forever. Happy Father’s Day,

2 thoughts on “What’s the Story, Morning Glory?

Add yours

  1. Thank you so much for this post. I was blessed to feel the same way about my Dad who died five years ago at the age of 88. I miss him I love him. I am so very grateful for him. Blessings and gratitude. 🙏❤️


  2. Dear Leslie,
    Thank you for sharing your beautiful tribute to your father. I loved your story about you and your father at the beach and how he paid attention to you. One of my most treasured memories of my father was a walk on the beach after dark, just the two of us, sharing how much we loved being at the ocean.
    Dad died fifty years ago, when he was forty-five. I miss him. My dad believed in me.


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