My father (left in roughly 1960; I remember well the sweet smell of his pipe; and below with some fellow shutterbugs at about the same time) turned 92 on his last birthday. He's got a few aches and pains and treatable ailments, but on the whole he's still going strong. I won't be there today - though I called - but I get home a couple of times a year for longish visits - I'll be there in just over a week for the summer one.
Sometimes I hear coworkers talk about their fathers and know: I got so lucky with mine. So lucky.
Happy Father's Day - I love you.