My Father’s Life-Long Secret To a Good Attitude
He frequently said, “Aren’t I fortunate…”
My dad was one of the most joyful people on the face of the Earth. He continually smiled, laughed and appreciated the simple — often overlooked — facets of daily living.
He loved swimming, music, gardening, running, tennis, reading, cooking, and eating. He loved his wife and his daughters with his whole heart. But the ability to love his family so completely came from loving life itself.
Daddy’s been gone more than five years, but his voice still lingers on, both in memories and in the letters who wrote. After serving as a clerk in the Navy at the end of WWII, his typing skills served him well for the rest of his 87 years. Since all three of his daughters and their families lived out of town, he would often compose letters, usually written in the wee hours of the morning when he couldn’t sleep.
Ninety percent of the letters would include mention of the snack he was having while he typed — like how good fried eggs taste at 3:30 a.m., or how a big slice of chocolate cake is the perfect side dish for a sunrise. (Daddy did love to eat.)
All three “Johnson Girls” would receive the same, newsy, cheerful missives pounded out on his old manual typewriter from our house on Driftwood Drive, a sheet of…
