My father never told me how to live. Instead, he led his own life, and let me watch it. From him I learned loyalty, integrity, responsibility, and gentleness, all of which I possess in much smaller measure than he did. Although he's been gone four years, I carry him with me every day, speak to him often. He inspires me to be a better man, and a worthy father. I woke up this morning, greeted my dad, then went downstairs to start the day, consciously grateful of the privilege of being a father myself. When I was getting ready for college, my father said two things that have stayed with me all these years – “Rutgers? Where the hell is that?” and, two days before I left to go 3000 miles away, “If I’ve done my job right, I’ve got nothing to worry about.” Now, 44 years later, I’m still learning the job that he did so well. Whenever things get tricky, I ask myself, “What would Dad do?” He was the most decent man I’ve ever known. And while I miss fiercely being able to speak with him, and hear his laughter which was always the signature of every conversation, I know he’s still with me, perched on my shoulder, offering the same wisdom, love and strength he did every day that he walked this earth. So I have no doubt that he hears me say thanks, Old Fella. Thanks forever.