Father’s Day without George Gilbert —

Sadly, four of them, now, without you! I can still hear you whispering, “Let go.”  And then you were gone to your peace — no doubt, back in Mommy’s arms.

I can’t say I’ve ever gotten used to being without you — because in a very real sense: you’re here with me every day.  What you taught me about how busy people can always find the time is so true.  And the joy you found in the little things, about giving to others, about how making it funny drives a point far deeper than a condescending lecture.  I look inside baby strollers, just like you once did, reminding mommies and daddies how important their loving efforts are.

Meanwhile, lots of those wonderful photos you left behind are now in the good hands of the International Center of Photography, which acquired them from me in 2013.  Both Nakki Goranin, who still stays in touch sending me her captivating shots of Vermont, and the venerable Brian Wallis made sure that nobody would forget what you accomplished during your lifetime. And so many of  your  pictures are now on the web!  Like the ones you took of Stevie in a football helmet, me on the beach, precious Mommy, plus your New York Photo League gems  — and portraits taken during the years when you, Mommy, and Stevie traded NYC for the Southwest. (Remember when I asked where I was then, and you said that I was the apple of your eye. )

There was lots of talk about you after you passed on, Daddy.  Photo buddies of yours I never knew about reached out to me with wonderful stories and gentle condolences. One of your fans told me you were like an encyclopedia — she said you knew everything about the history of photography!

They likely had no idea how much fun you were having — dressing up for all those photography auctions, snapping pictures of relatives and strangers in the 19th century garb you collected  — a bit like a reborn Louis Daguerre or Matthew Brady!  You know my absolute favorite photo of Grandma Seckie and Grandpa Kelly is the one with Grandpa in your signature top hat, with a bugle, next to Grandma, dressed like a toreador’s sweetheart.

After you took off to be with Mommy, again — your grandson, Myles Bugbee, now 26, became a political consultant — just like he always wanted to be– and now has his own place in Washington, DC. He’s very clever and looks a tiny bit like you did in your Brooklyn Tech yearbook profile.  He’s working very hard, dating lovely women, and has some very close friends who date back to his debate days and other big adventures. We chat on the phone and once a year, he flies out to see us in Hawaii…

I almost forgot to tell you.  We sold our Cooper Mountain house, not too long after you, Mommy, and Mama B left us behind. All three of you in one terrible year — the only nice thing that happened in 2012 was getting to watch Myles graduate from Rice University, summa cum laude, Phi Beta Kappa.  

And we bought a wonderful place in North Kona, 1200 feet above the ocean, with lots of mangoes, papayas, bananas, pineapples, avocados —   the perfect reason for Bill to buy and frequently use his very first tractor!  When he’s not organizing forums out here …

Daddy, this is our Pooh Corner.  Just minutes from one of our favorite beaches and about 10 minutes from the airport. It’s even lovelier than Manhattan and Riverdale rolled into one!

When I told Brian Wallis that we were moving to the Big Island, he said, “So you’re finally moving back to Manhattan!”

Meanwhile, Bill’s underwater close-ups and videos of turtles, eels, and the kinds of fish you usually only see in aquariums would truly dazzle you!  And my inverted breaststroke and front crawl keep getting stronger.

Time to return to my newest  comedy, “Mostly When I See Rolls Royces,” and these days I co-edit the Alumnae Bulletin Class Notes for Bryn Mawr, Class of  ’74 — so I’m signing off with the most adoring hug ever for the most nurturing dad anywhere. I love you , Daddy — you’ve always known that!