I have thousands and thousands of memories with my Dad, but here were a few that leapt to mind today. I’m sure I’ll add to this list over the coming days, month, and years:

• Dad started playing tennis when he was seven, he played college tennis, and he played for the rest of his life. While I was in college in the late-80’s, he joined Northwest Racquet Club and started playing more frequently. When they moved to Heritage Ranch, he played virtually every day. In fact, several people at the visitation told me that he was playing his best tennis just a month before he died
• He was a versatile athlete, and he could excel at just about anything he chose. As a young boy, I remember him playing basketball. When I was in elementary school, I remember him skiing and teaching me to ski. When I was in junior high we bought him a pair of Rollerblades before anyone outside Minneapolis knew what they were
• Dad was a great skier. He wasn’t flashy or super-aggressive — he was a very technical skier with perfect form. We skied together countless times, and we worked together to teach Jack and Cate too (even if it exhausted us both)
• He had the somewhat startling (and some might say borderline freakish) “talent” for wiggling his ears
• When I was four or five years old, I remember going to Theodore Wirth Park in the evening, and I hit Dad in the back with a snowball. In retaliation, he grabbed a snowball and threw it at my knees. Attempting to out-smart him, I ducked just before he threw it, and the snowball hit me square in the nose. I remember bursting into tears and Mom getting after him
• I was missing a front tooth one Christmas Eve, and I was quick to demonstrate that the other front tooth was loose as well. Dad and his first-cousin-but-like-a-brother, Dennis Kaufman, took matters into their own hands — one wrestled with me while the other extracted the second tooth
• I bought my first car from my Dad — a 1986 Honda Accord LXi two-door hatchback — after I graduated from college
• Just before I jumped in the moving truck (with the aforementioned Accord in tow), my Dad presented me with a new toolbox which he had filled with tools
• In a skill I seem to have inherited directly from him, Grandpa Dick could wrestle and tickle the kids until they inevitably cried from exhaustion or an overly aggressive “bear trap”
• My Dad had Rice Krispies every morning, and he added sugar to his cereal. You try explaining to two kids why they can’t add sugar to their cereal when they see Grandpa Dick doing it
• When they stayed with us, I think it made my Dad slightly crazy that he didn’t have his morning paper or freshly brewed coffee
• Grandpa Dick and Grandma Irene (together with Lisa and me) bought the kids new bikes for their fourth birthday, and Grandpa Dick encouraged Jack and Cate to ride them far more aggressively than I ever did. He helped them ride at the Ranch, and he kept encouraging them to remove the training wheels. When Jack finally made the leap to two wheels, Grandpa Dick held the bike upright and ran behind Jack as he pedaled down the street
• He loved to watch football, but heaven help you (read: Mom) if you didn’t cheer “right”
• At Christmas, he would wrap the gifts, and he was known to use a glue-gun to get that perfectly tapeless look
• When we were in Waterville for Grandpa Delmar’s funeral, just Dad and I went to Main Street Bar for beers together. Great one-on-one time where we talked about family and technology
• Dad was always really good about being interested in (or pretending to be interested in) all the technology stuff I prattle on about. He was always willing to look at or try a new gadget
• On a related note, Dad took my old PowerBook and ran with it. We configured it so both my Mom and Dad could use it, but my Mom didn’t (in his estimation) show sufficient interest in moving from Windows, so he quickly declared it his own and refused to let her near it. We’re so much alike…
• Dad loved to hang with his kids and his grandkids. Whether he was watching the Ficks, Jay Rice, and me attempt to Bloody Mary our livers to death or he was watching Jack and Cate discuss their day at school, he was part of the fun and not the adult supervision
• My Dad and I shared the innate ability to recognize when Mom was about to tell a completely inappropriate story, even when she had only spoken a word or two
• My Dad and I shared some of the same guilty pleasures: The Simpsons, South Park, and American Chopper. I even remember how he ordered the WrestleMania 2 pay-per-view — my college buddies and I trekked to Golden Valley to watch it with him
• In mid-April shortly before they left The Ranch for Minnesota, my Mom and Dad were sitting on their back patio chatting with a few passing golfers. After a while, Dad commented to her: “I sure hope I can always stay healthy enough to play tennis, because I wouldn’t want to have to take up golf.”
• In perhaps the last thing he said before he was put on a ventilator, Dad told Peggy: “Make sure Irene hangs on to her credit card.” I’m touched that he was thinking of my Mom at that moment, but it also makes me laugh because it’s unmistakably something he would say on such an occasion
• My Dad died on Thursday, May 29, 2008 at 2:10 AM. For posterity, I (with some help from my Mom) created a calendar of his recent illness and my notes from my last day with him. I just wanted to ensure I remembered everything
• On June 2nd, we held a visitation in Waterville, Minnesota, and the funeral was held the following day at Grace Lutheran Church in Waseca, Minnesota. My Mom and I worked together to write the obituary
• On June 14th, we held a second visitation near Heritage Ranch at Creekwood United Methodist Church in Allen, Texas. The captain of the tennis team, Dick Bushart (my Dad and he called each other, somewhat disturbingly, “the Big Dick”), wrote and read a wonderful tribute to my Dad