If someone asked me how I knew my Daddy loved me, I would probably describe his Sunday morning breakfasts.

We would trickle in to the smells of something wonderful cooking and he will ask if we want an egg.

Sure.

Then he cooks it to our liking and we have a great breakfast.

While mom does most of the the day-to-day cooking, the thankless kind, we really enjoy it.

But there is something special about being home on Sunday morning and eating one of Dad's omelettes.

The man can cook the best omelette and makes it look easy.

When I lived in Georgia, I would fix my own breakfast on Sunday morning and would try to repeat his actions.

The way he cuts up everything the same perfect size.

I have never been able to make an omelette that remotely could compete with his.

Through most of my childhood the Sunday breakfast was something I looked forward to.

It was our time with Dad.

During my entire childhood, I rarely got to see him because he left for his job in Montgomery about 5 a.m.

So those times on Sunday mornings were our time.

I remember a friend once stayed over at our house when I was in junior high school.

He was amazed that Sunday morning when he realized Dad was doing the cooking and mom was sitting there reading a paper.

Somehow I think that was his way of letting her have some off time and in a small way, he was able to show us that he was very much a part of our lives.

As I began to think about his column, I got to really think about my Dad.

One of the greatest things I've learned from Dad is mercy.

I can't really explain why mercy, but it fits.

Then I think of his sacrifices.

Sometimes I wonder if being a father is worth everything?

Since I am not one I can't answer that.

But I know that my dad has made sacrifices for each of his children.

Sadly, we've never taken the time to ask him.

One of the things that I learned from my dad is that if something is your fault.

Admit it and be the bigger man and move on.

One of the funniest memories I have of my Dad was a road trip we were taking a family.

My Mom has always enjoyed the taste of Sun-Drop.

We pulled up at a convenience store and Dad was about to get out to go in.

The four children in the back seat began to bellow out the types of soft drinks we wanted.

When he returned to the car, he began to pass out the drinks, they were all Sun-Drops.

Every day, he would stop on his way home to get my mom her favorite soft drink.

His response to our whines about not getting what we wanted were met with, "I'm programmed to get one drink flavor and that's it."

Oddly, now that he is a grandfather, he'll go out of his way to get exactly what his grandchildren want.

We kid him about it.

I believe I even wondered aloud one day if I had cause for legal action.

But why.

I was 11 when his father died.

It was devastating that July 8.

Today, I wonder if my niece and nephews realize these are some of the happiest times they'll have in their lives because they have their grandfather.

I wish I still had mine and I wish that he, my Dad and myself could enjoy a good, country Sunday morning breakfast together.

I imagine Dad wishes the same thing.

Happy Father's Day Dad!

Jay Thomas is managing editor of The Greenville Advocate can be reached at 383-9302, ext. 136 or via email at jay.thomas@greenvilleadvocate.com