I tried to take a picture today of one of my Father's needlepoints. Once he learned, he took off. It was to be expected. If there was ever a Renaissance man - it was Dad. He went to Med school and had to drop out during his internship because of incurable osteomyletis. He went to embalming school and took over as the 5th generation of Hardys in the funeral business. He was called from all over the country to reconstruct faces and became President of the National Funeral Directors Association. Because of that, he was called to work on the body of JFK and help conduct his funeral in D.C. As president of that organization, he helped found Hospice. He was an interior decorator . He collected Oriental art. He loved Classical music and Jazz. He gave me all the love music and the arts to make me the person I am today. I thought he was perfect. Of course, he wasn't. He was temperamental and moody. My mother is a saint to have lived with him. Without him, I would not be painting or singing.
So - here's to my Dad and also to the very best father I have ever known - my present husband. Two wonderful men. Will try for photo of Dad's needlepoint another day.