For the rest of my life I shall draw and paint pictures of my father. Of course, I can’t say I know what he’d think of that, but I suspect his feelings would be mixed. Modest enough to be uncomfortable with the practice, he probably would have approved, on the other hand, of my using his image as a mechanism for continuous artistic improvement. It’s natural for me to think about him on his birthday, what he would be like in his 80s, or how different my life might be if I still had access to his evolving wisdom, pragmatic perspective, and keen sense of leadership. Whether we comprehend it or not, each of us has a meaningful influence by our very presence in the drama of existence, affecting our world and others in countless ways. Perhaps our departure from the stage will be less profound, depending on how we have played our part. If one is as beloved as my namesake, the absence is a deeply felt void which sends ongoing ripples across the surface of family life.