You are familiar with the great Russian writer Leo Tolstoy. Tolstoy's marriage was a saga of bitterness. His wife carped and complained and clung to her grudges until he could not bear the sight of her. When they had been married almost a half a century, sometimes she would implore him to read to her the exquisite, poignant love passages that he had written about her in his diary forty-eight years previously, when they were both madly in love with each other. As he read of the happy days that were now gone forever, they both wept bitterly. (1)

Is there anything sadder than to look back over a lifetime of neglected opportunities--wasted years when love could and should have been nurtured--and regret that you "blew it?" Some of you know what I am talking about.

This is Father's Day. Dad's …