My father, Scott Smith, was an avid fisherman with an eclectic music taste. He could be found in his waders fly-fishing or testing out the newest high-end speakers in the music store. Unfortunately he suffered from depression and took his own life with his shotgun on April 9, 2014, which was the day after my 31st birthday. He never got a chance to meet his grandchildren, so all I have to share with them are stories.
Sometimes if I close my eyes and squeeze them tightly, I can smell my dad’s cologne and feel his face pressed against mine as he gave me one of his famous bear hugs. I miss him every day. So many things remind me of my dad, especially when I listen to The Beatles – our favorite band of all time.