My dad’s birthday is today. He would have been 107. I’ve put other stuff on my wall about Pop – recycled stories and videos (and have I mentioned Dad is in Wikipedia?) But I thought I’d gift him with something new for his birthday. He’s not really gone, you see. I still feel his presence here with me – not as a ghost or anything – but I feel his smile with me, his humor and his love.

Daddy, I miss our drives together. I miss the conversations we managed to have, even though we were both hard-of-hearing. I remember you sitting in the passenger seat, your head going back and forth as you took in the landscape, telling me about the geologic history of whatever area we were traveling through, and often saying, “I made a field trip out here for the USGS,” or “I hiked that trail,” or “I climbed that,” or “This would make a good painting.”

One of the greatest gifts you passed on to me was a love for the outdoors, and an appreciation of the natural beauty around us. I followed you up to the summits of Hood and Rainier, Baker and Adams – and when I look at those peaks now I’m sort of in awe that I climbed them – who was I to think I could do that?!

I was Dee Molenaar’s daughter, that’s who.

You instilled a confidence in myself that’s gotten me through some really challenging years. Thank you for that gift, too.

Through your travels and connections you met some amazing, fearless people. Your community of fellow adventurers was filled with brave, heroic visionaries. You introduced me to people of all races and all major religions, and exampled for me what it means to love the world’s people without bigotry or discrimination. As a youngster, I hiked with Tenzing Norgay! As a twelve-year-old, I ran a mile down our country road with Doris Brown!! Governor Evans came to our house to borrow climbing equipment one time. And it wasn’t out-of-the-ordinary for me to pick up the phone and find myself talking to Edmund HIllary. You were comfortable moving among both the famous and the not, and always enjoyed meeting new “mountain people.”

You could be stubborn. You could be critical. You could be bossy. But I always knew you loved me. I always felt your support. You let me know you were proud of me. I’m glad I had you for my Pop.

Happy birthday, Daddy!

(Photos: My feet next to Dad’s – I think this was on our climb of Mount Hood when I was 15; a screenshot of what came up when I googled “Dee Molenaar”; Dad, my brother, Pete, and I on Mount Rainier.)