My Father’s Day

I woke up early, which doesn’t always happen anymore.  I used to be up at 7 am no matter what.  Lately I’ve been staying awake much later than normal.  Call it part of my job.  But I love waking early.  My problem is that I also love staying awake until the wee hours of the morning 🙂

Anyway, this morning I woke to this drawing, emailed to me from my daughter.  She drew it on her Wacom tablet.

Happy Father's Day.

My daughter is always thinking of me.  She will make a great artist (and perhaps even a great wife and mother, should she decide to push her skill-sets) some day. 🙂  Love her to death.

Later my kids did the grocery shopping, and fixed me a wonderful meal, which they insisted we ate at the table together (at 18 and 20, my kids are rarely home for meals, much less eating together!).

My son has recently started cooking – and he has a knack for it.  Love him as well!

It was a wonderful day.

But not for everyone.

This conversation, which my friend Robert Scoble started, explains why.  Hard to enjoy this day when so much of the world is in pain.

If you can stomach it, here is the before and after photos of one father’s daughter on Father’s Day.  Don’t click if you are squeamish.  She was shot and killed while walking in a peaceful protest with her father.

I am proud that I served my country, and am inspired by all of those in Iran who are doing the same.  Sounds like a cliche, but freedom really isn’t free.

Ask Neda’s father.

Because we can’t ask Neda.