There were many wonderful remembrances of my dad during his funeral service. But there were two that especially touched my heart. My uncle and a brother from my parent's church shared similar stories of my dad always encouraging them to read and giving them books. I had to smile through the tears because this was so like my dad. He loved to read, and he loved books. I always remember the growing stack and sometimes stacks of books near whichever chair he happened to chose for reading. When my parents moved from their home of over 40 years to independent living, the big question was, "What are we going to do with all these books?" I'm sure I tripled my library with the books I brought home, and I gave at least three boxes to my pastor. But we managed to pare down the many shelves to four. When the time came for my parents to move to assisted living, the books had to be culled again. We discovered not only my dad's personal books that were never unpacked but ...