My Dad was born in 1920, lived through the depression, went into the war, came out of the war and got a job that he did for 40 years. He worked swing shift mostly so he would be asleep when I went to school, at work when I went to bed and I think I only saw him on weekends and holidays. I was also born when he was between 40-42. We never really played ball, or catch, but since I had a ton of friends in the neighborhood I was never lonely. Somehow I never felt neglected, and always knew he loved me. I was glad that after I got married and my wife and I had our first child, my parents bought the house next to us. The difference is that whenever I wanted to talk to him he was always available. Well played author, I didn't think you would make me cry but I suddenly miss my dad who has been dead for almost 20 years.