Three score and a few weeks ago a young man home from war in the South Pacific was presented by his high school sweetheart and wife of two years with me. Father's day was simple, change the diapers, heat the bottles, feed the kid, change the diapers, heat the bottles, feed the kid. By the next year my brother Oops, had joined us, Father's Day that year was much the same with twice as much work. Dad's third Father's Day was a little easer Oops and I ate at the table and I was out of dippers. Shirlie joined us for the next Farther's Day and life was good.

Twelve years after my birth along came Little Oops, there years later came O'my God.

Five kids, one Dad, five experiences, all different, all good. Being the oldest Dad and I did what needed done, teaching me along the way. I was a second set of hands, a needed assistant I loved it. A year later Jack, Opos felt put upon, he learned partly because Dad insisted, partly because he was so bright. We were both Loved, but it was a different experience. Shirlie, Dad's little girl had an even more different, experience, not because there was any difference in the love of the three of us, but because she was born at a time when girls were girls not boys in panties.

All the love, all the caring, all the same, but experienced differently. Dad and I shared a lot, as he did with his Dad, and Grandpa did with Great Grandpa. I was fortunate to experience them all.

I know I'm who I am because of those three men and my maternal Grandfather. Dad's the only one left, I hope I've made him proud and I hope my kids feel the same way. I hope we have a lot more Father's Days together.

My experience is closest with Little Oops, Joe and O'my God, Tom, I envy those two they lived with Dad in the years after the pressures of a young man's family, but I wouldn't trade my experience for anything.

Dad I love you.

Bill

Father's Day 1948. That's me in my Father's arms, Great Grandpa, Robert Stephen Saxby Archambault, and peeking out from the back is my Grandfather, William Jennings Bryan Archambault.

Shortly after Dad's first Father's Day Mother telling me Dad had to mow the lawn. Then Dad is explaining to me that all that grass will soon be my responsibility to mow.