Hi there– It’s Fathers Day tomorrow and I’m remembering the best father you could imagine. And recently my brother scanned over a hundred of old photos of our dad and passed them on (thanks Brad!). I discovered them late one evening and stayed up too too late pouring over every one. Here’s a little memory scrapbook of him, Carl Dupray, our beloved dad.
My little sis, Lulu, and I with Dad in front of our growing up home, and a winter’s day trip up to the mountains for sledding, snow cones and this little snow-guy (thanks for the poodle-ish home perm Mom!).
Moments before the collapse of our pyramid at the park! Dad with all his kids, and grand-kids on a hike around Crescent Meadow in Sequoia National Park–where we camped every summer growing up.
He was the best grandfather too– trips to feed the ducks with little Micah and thinking through a puzzle with our son Aaron.
How could you not love a Dad who made French toast every Sunday morning of your growing up years?
Who would round up the Sunday School kids for a riotous game of Upset Fruit Basket or walk them all down to the drugstore for a 5 cent ice cream cone?
Who would made dozens of jars of strawberry jam in the spring to pass out to all the family?
A Dad who led long wandering hikes through the redwoods of Sequoia?
Who would write warm newsy letters every single week we lived away in Dallas, Costa Rica and then Spain?
A Dad who built a large red playhouse in the backyard complete with double hung windows and a cut out cat over the door?
Who planned our yearly road trips and filled the driving hours with games and math quizzes?
A man who spent years in chemotherapy himself, managed to be a constant hospital visitor to others suffering from cancer.
A wonderful warm father who sat on the edge or our beds each night and talked and prayed with us before we went to sleep.
He’s been in heaven now for 17 years, but I miss and adore him still. Here’s to all the loving fathers out there. Happiest Fathers Day.