## Wednesday, January 11, 2012

### Dad, √6, and Slumdog

Today would have been my dad's 84th birthday.

And I've been saving a story my brother, Keith, told me back in November for just this day.

Keith's daughter, Dylan, and her boyfriend were sitting in his kitchen one evening doing math homework. Keith was milling around the kitchen, casually hearing but not really listening to them frustratedly work through a problem. Irritated at the snag they'd hit, and not really expecting an answer, Dylan blurts out,"Dad! What's the square root of 6?"

He immediately replied, "2.449."

 $\scriptstyle \sqrt {6}$ $\scriptstyle \approx$ 2.44949
Well, maybe not as ridiculous as this many numbers past, but enough to impress my dad. For us, Dad just wrote 2.449. As soon as Keith told his daughter this story, she said, "Wow. This is a such a slumdog moment!"

I love this story.
I love that Dylan voiced the slumdog* connection.
I love the passing on of family history from one generation to another.
I love being reminded of my dad and his weekly letters. (and the \$20 usually included)
I love being reminded of those numbers that were always somewhere close to the words, "love, Dad."

I think he smiled when he wrote them.
I'm smiling as I remember them.
I'm smiling as I remember him.