Retirement is gonna look good on these two.

Mom, Dad, Alexis, me and Thomas.

Mom and Dad take Los Angeles by storm






















My Dad turned 60 today. You wouldn’t guess looking at his lifestyle.

He still rides his motorcycle like a reckless kid. Still cranks the volume. Still climbs ladders, chops trees, and pumps iron. Still yells at the TV as if the players can hear him. Still as hard headed as they get and still as tough as nails. Still my Dad.

Sixty’s a big one, but it’s no match for you. Happy 60 Dad.

My Mom and Dad’s 40th wedding anniversary is today. I asked them what the secret is, after all these years. My Dad says, “She ignores me, and I ride my motorcycle.” Mom says, “There is no secret, you either love each other, or you don’t.”

Off the Southwest Florida Gulf Coast there’s a place called Estero Island. On that island there’s a seven-story condo called Sea Watch. On the 7th floor of that condo, there’s a unit that’s been in my family since before my time. I was just five months old my first visit. The Smith’s are still making memories there to this day.

My parents hold the keys to it now, and Alexis and I tagged along this year. It was her first time and I hadn’t been back in eleven years. It’s a special place, with a lot of history. It’s a place I’m very thankful for.















You forget just how much family you really have until you get them all in the same room. We did just that for my Grandfather’s 86th birthday. All his grandchildren, some of us scattered across the country, came together for him. Can only hope all those years down the road the story goes the same way when it’s my turn.

My Mom’s side of the family got together for us at my Cousin Michelle and Mario’s house too. It was a great time. We ate, we drank, we laughed, and saw lot’s of faces. Some I hardly recognize anymore.

Going back is always a nostalgic flood. A reminder of where I come from. Things get so busy, you almost start to forget. But we always go back. Thankful for a small place in a big world that will always have us. You know what they say, home is where the Italian beef sandwiches are.

Three generations of Smiths. My Gramp, my Dad, and me. I was 15 years young.

At least they aren’t using MapQuest printouts anymore.

Mom and Dad exploring the Huntington Library.

There was no “Four”

My Dad, manning the grill, next to the pool, under the Florida sun. Following his dream of getting his family the hell out of the Chicago winters.

Here’s to him, and my Mom, for showing me what it means to take a chance and follow a dream, and for always encouraging me to follow my own.

My mom forbade me from taking a picture of her and my dad wearing their tie-dye t-shirts together.

Putting that picture here just seemed like the right thing to do.

“If you can’t win, cheat.”

—Dad

My Dad. The smartest, and possibly loudest man I know. I’ve no doubt he could easily talk over a fire engine. Today is his birthday.

No matter how old he gets, or I get, I’ll always see him as a superhero.

Bless her heart.

My dad taught me to ride a bicycle down this sidewalk.

There’s a lot more shade.

My Dad, Montreal, September 1982 on a motorcycle trip. Only twenty-three here, but already married four years, and already a father. Makes me wonder sometimes what the hell I’m doing. Don’t think there was ever a time he wasn’t invincible. Nor will there be, and thats why hes my Dad.

Happy Fathers Day Dad.

Love,
Kyle.

My first car. My close friend Michelle’s Grandmother’s car. A brand new, used 1992 Ford Torus with 3 hubcaps, no AC, and a half broken tape deck. But she runs.

This is my Mom and Dad’s home. I forgot a window next to the door. My room was the window on the right.