The Kissingers are a lucky family and my father was a lucky man. Think about it for a minute with me:

• He was married 45 years to the love of his life and his true soul-mate.

• He spent 40 years doing something he loved at a university he loved with colleagues he respected and liked.

• He saw my brother and me successfully through school and launched in life. He saw us be happily married and have families of our own. He knew we were going to be “okay.”

• He got to see and really know his four beloved grandkids, who made him so happy and proud.

• He got to travel the world and have adventures in life, be they chasing eclipses or navigating the Autobahn at 100 mph or just flying his Cessna into Terre Haute for a cup of coffee.

• He got to have 5 dogs all named “Wags.”

My father was a lucky man.

My father was a Pennsylvania Dutchman, which made him practical, grounded, and stubborn. It also made him fond of traditions and sayings and it is those things by which we will continue to keep him alive and part of our everyday lives. It’s traditions like the ridiculous Harlow Hiccenlooper birthday song, the special Christmas toast, the crossed-arm wave good-bye from the driveway at the end of a visit that might make no sense to others but helped define us as a family.

And the endless sayings! Get your rest. Stay in your lane. It’s only money. This is the good life. Nobody’s having any more fun than we are. It only costs a little more to go first class. Safety first! He had so many that we just began to number them so when we left the house we could just say, “Yeah yeah, Dad, I know, number 1 and 15.” And yet, I find myself telling my own kids “Safety first!” as they run out to play. It’s like it’s a blessing from my father that has protected me all my life and will now magically protect my kids, too. These traditions and sayings—both silly and serious—that my father created for us helped define us as a family and give us a sense of continuity.

The Kissingers are a lucky family.

My friends in California used to say to me, “What is wrong with your family? You guys are so incredibly functional!” and it’s true. We not only love each other, we actually like each other. During the 20 years I’ve lived in California, I’ve seen my parents every year, 4 times a year—spring and fall in California, summer and winter in Indiana, and it never seems to be enough. We’ve taken family trips together—all 10 of us and sometimes with our extended family too—to Martha’s Vineyard, Ocracoke Island, Taos NM, Hilton Head SC, Lake Tahoe, Michigan, and were planning a trip this Christmas to Sun Valley Idaho. My dad was a lot of different things, but he was first and foremost a family man and he was often the subtle—or not so subtle—instigator of these trips.

Finally, my dad was a seemingly very simple, yet ultimately quite complex man—much like a very fine red wine that has been blended to perfection. He had an inner peace about who he was and what was important to him that informed all his decisions about his life. He tried to give people the benefit of the doubt and to treat others with kindness and fairness. He was soft-hearted when it came to animals, children, and the “underdog” in life. Whatever he did, he gave it 100%, whether it be taking a nap or teaching a class or trekking in Tibet. His curiosity never dimmed, his love of life, family, and friends never wavered, his thankfulness for the good life he had never faltered.

So when you think of us, please remember that the Kissingers are a lucky family and that my father was a lucky man.

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