It was pure coincidence that I checked the date on my watch yesterday, but it stopped me in my tracks when I realized that it would have been my father’s 80th birthday.
My father died 34 years ago, so it may not come as a surprise that in my effort to deal with a bulk load of present-day matters, I don’t think of him as often anymore as I have done in the past. But when I realized that I almost would have missed his 80th birthday, it struck like lightning. So I spent much of yesterday talking about him with my wife, thinking of him and the pleasant memories I have of him of summer weekends and trips to the Mediterranean – as well as the unpleasant ones like his 7-year battle against cancer, which, despite temporary triumphs, he eventually lost.
Speaking of memories, for reasons I will not share here, the only physical memory I have of him is this photograph.

A photograph can be many things—art, documentation, whatever. This one, to me, is a treasure. In addition to keeping the visual memory of him alive, it also helped me realize the importance of leaving more for my children than one photograph when, one day, inevitably, all they can do is remember me and our summer weekends and trips to the sea.
So, this video is dedicated to my father.

If echoes are all that remains of us in the future, then we should make their origin beautiful in the present. For there is no love that is not an echo.
Happy Birthday, Old Man!