In Loving Memory Of My Father, Harvey L. Slatin
(August 17, 1915 – February 23, 2013)
Sadly, my father passed away less than two weeks ago, and already it feels like an eternity. There are so many things still left unsaid. So many things I wished I’d said to my father; questions I wish I had asked, and so many places I wish that we could have gone together.
Dad, if you can read this, I’m sorry that we never got the opportunity to take that all-American trip across the country, and that you and I never managed to have that around-the-world adventure that you talked about for the past few years before you passed away. I want to thank you for being the kind of father that all my friends wished they had. The kind of father that my friends considered cool.
Dad, you worked your entire life to make sure that mom and I would always have the good things in life, and you insisted that I get sent to the better schools in town so that I would have the best chance at life that you could possibly give me. I wish that I had let you know how much I appreciate all that you have done for me before it was too late. Most of all, I want to thank you for always believing in me, no matter what.
You gave me my first camera. And then my second camera. And pretty much every camera that followed, along the way. You encouraged me to write, to start up my own website. You taught me everything I know about Science. Above all else, always encouraged me to stay productive as possible and in doing so, my life would be worthwhile.
It seems that once its too late, there are just so many things I wished I’d said, done, or experienced. Things that I never thought to do, say, or places I never wanted to go… Until now.
But most of all, I wish you were here. The last time I talked to you, you told me that you were not going to live forever. You were right; I wish we had more time.