This brought back some memories of my father teaching me to ride when I was about 6 years old. I remember my dad behind me holding onto the seat… and I thought he was still there holding me up. I had gone about a block before I looked back… and saw him walking into the yard. I made a turn in the road to head back to where he was… and I had to stop at the curb… started to tumble over and caught myself on the curb/grass. One of my earliest clear memories is fishing with him. We were at the river near the dam. The shore there is very large rocks. The water right at the edge flows back under the rocks. It started to rain — a light rain — and he set me back under a rock so I wouldn’t get wet. I can still remember looking down under me and seeing the water rolling back under me… and watching a bluegill swimming around under the rocks. I still can picture him standing in the misty rain, on a rock at the water’s edge enjoying the fishing. I couldn’t have been more than 4 or 5. He’s been gone 24 years now. He was a good man. It just occurred to me as I was writing this…. today (29th) was his birthday.