Harry Marvin "Skip" Boyer: April 3, 1953 - April 13, 2003

Today is my Dad's birthday. He would be 53 today, which is special, in a way, because he was born in 1953. For someone not being real in love with numbers, this fascinates me for some reason. It also fascinates me that he died almost exactly 50 years from the day he was born. But enough about his death. Let's talk about the man that was my father, my best friend, my guide in the world.
This picture is of some historical places in Bucyrus, Ohio, birthplace of one Skip Boyer, otherwise known as my daddy. Bucyrus is a small town, one that was all about its football on Friday nights. My father was the only male of four sisters, and the youngest to boot. So, you can imagine the spoiled childhood he received, which sure enough carried over into his grown up years. He moved to Florida when he was in 7th grade, where, as he stepped out of the car at 10:00p.m. at night turned to his mother and asked "Is this hell?" as the grasshoppers and other leggy creatures chirped and sang in the night. He was going to live with his mother and his Aunt Ruth in Florida. He loved his Aunt Ruth, and always spoke about how she never wanted to owe anyone anything: including her life. When he saved it once she repaid him with 5 dollars.
He walked to the busstop in shorts and a t-shirt in 50 degree weather, and gawked at the silly Floridians who wore scarves and thick jackets on days such as these. He was a football player, a wild guy, a Billy Idol lover, rode a motorcycle when I was young, and took me for rides as a little girl, and made me my own glitter red motorcycle helmet. He built me a swingset as a young girl, and picked me up from the busstop on hot days to ride his motorcycle.

He worked 12 to 14 hour days, and later, when his heart gave out, was the cutest and funniest man alive. But more than that, he was my best friend. He was a meat and potatoes kind of guy, a Pepsi lover, an avid Rolling Stones fan, an Elvis fan, and his mantra became "You Can't Always Get What You Want." A blue collar worker all of his life, he gave up a scholarship to the Coast Guard to stay at home with his mother who had a stroke when he was 16. He took care of her all of his adult life, until it almost killed him to put her in a very poorly run retirement home. He worked and worked so my brother and I could have a good life. He like pineapple upside down cake and Fritos. His favorite movie was Casablanca. He liked to read Louis L'Amour books, mystery novels, and loved John Wayne. I used to buy him books to read and take him out to lunch. I used to do stretches with him, to get the blood pumping in his tired and worn out organs. I called him "handsome" and used to run up to him when he came home when I was a little girl.

These are just some of the memories I have my Dad, my best friend, on the day of his 53rd birthday. He was truly what Dads are supposed to be, and I miss him every day of my life. So, in honor of today, Partner and I will be making a cake, setting a balloon free, and going to dinner at one of his favorite spots. We will watch "Casablanca" and remember the man that literally gave his life to support me, my brother, my mother, and everyone he loved. So, in honor of today, I urge you to break out a Corona, sit on a relaxing seat, and pop in the Stones: Start Me Up and You Can't Always Get What You Want. These were his mantra, and I feel like a part of me is missing. Every day. That's the way it should be.