Wild Card/Thursday — 2.2.17

Today has been special to me for all of my life. My father was born on Groundhog Day, in 1921. He was short (5-6 1/2), stocky and a very good man with a great sense of humor. He worked hard running a 500-acre dairy with several hundred cows. He never had an illusion that I’d follow in his foot steps. In fact, he discouraged it. He told me many times: “I supported my family with my muscles. You’ll have to support your family with your brains.” He died way too young as a result of a vehicle accident, at age 56. All six of his children have outlived him. Mom, 91, still misses him. She was 51 when he died. She never dated afterward. She tells us regularly: “Why should I date when I already had the best?” Here’s your Thursday Wild Card …