In Memory of Lloyd Harris' birthday

Today my daddy would have been 93.  I'd have called him and he'd have sung, "Happy Birthday to Me" on the phone as he always did. If I'd been there, or if he'd been here, I'd have made him a pound cake or banana pudding, his favorites.

He died at 80 of pneumonia, a healthy, strong, and handsome man to the end.  He and my mother had been married for 57 years.

As Carlene is nearing her 90th birthday, she often says that she's "honoring him by continuing to live a healthy life," enjoying  the memories they made together.

My daddy was a wise and humble man. He made the sound of a chicken in the line at grocery stores and in elevators, causing women to shriek.  With a constant twinkle in his blue eyes, he told great jokes and stories. He loved "making pictures" and he loved making people laugh.

I have boxes of pictures of him--and countless ones in my memory.  He was a fisherman, a family man and a friend to so many people, especially all the women in the church and neighborhood who liked to pretend-flirt with him. He was friendly, funny, and frugal.

When he died, one of his friends said it best: "We've lost a giant of a man."  His daughter feels the same way every day.