Another 7-Year Marker

Seven years ago today I lost my father, Bill Whitten. Pop had been in the hospital for a few weeks with pneumonia, and never recovered. It was only 3 months since Ma had passed, so I think he was just done and ready to follow her. Here's one of my favorite pictures of Pop, from his early Army days in the 1950s:

My dad was the greatest; he never met a stranger, and would do anything for anyone, no questions asked. He was one of the nicest men you'd ever meet.

Little girls never get too old to need their daddies. I wish I still had mine. I miss you, Pop.