Birthday Boy

(On a Green background)

This serious, freckle-faced little boy was born on St. Patrick's Day eighty-eight years ago. Clever timing on his part, considering his surname was Murphy.

He grew up to be a brave young man fighting in the South Pacific in World War II, a talented artist, a consummate story-teller, an avid player of golf, an inveterate pipe smoker, a guitar strummer, a world traveler, a teller of hilarious jokes, a perpetual home repairer, a whiskey connoisseur, an ingenious inventor, a sailor, a friend to everyone he met, a devoted husband, and a doting grandfather.

He was also my father. Gone for thirty years now, but still missed every day.

Happy Birthday, Dad.