This story was excerpted from Scott Merkin's White Sox Beat newsletter. To read the full newsletter, click here. And subscribe to get it regularly in your inbox.

Missed opportunities.

No, this following story is not about the White Sox or anything baseball related, as some might otherwise guess from the first two words. With Father’s Day just under two weeks away, I want to talk about my dad, Edward Merkin.

Simply put, he was the greatest man I’ve ever known.

He worked tirelessly to provide for his wife, Phyllis, whom he loved dearly for 55 years, and his three sons, who would be me, Jeff, and Randy in descending order of age but certainly not in descending order of overall maturity. He also had a genuine kindness unfortunately not seen as consistently in our current society and was a truly inadvertently hilarious person. I’ve often stated my parents had perfected the roles of the Costanzas before anyone ever heard of Seinfeld.

So, why the missed opportunities line? My dad died at age 91 on Oct. 13, 2020, and my life really hasn’t been the same since. As close as our family always has been throughout the years, I’m left with a void of what there could have and should have been between the two of us.

There was so much more I could have learned from dad about life, even at my middle-aged status. There were so many hugs not shared or so many "I love yous” not stated even though it was always understood. We were somewhat hindered in that we usually got our haunches up during discussions and ended up talking at each other more so than talking to each other. Listening is such an important skill, which I’m always trying to improve upon.

I would give anything to have one more year, one more month, one more week or even one more day with my dad, just so he knew how much he shaped my life. For those who have that opportunity, don’t waste it -- whether it’s dads, moms, friends, colleagues, or anyone who holds meaning in your existence. I plan to take my own advice and do a better job in that area.

Allow me to close with one of my dad’s favorite jokes, which I was reminded of a few weeks ago. Whenever the White Sox played the Red Sox, he would approach one of the three of us and want to make a bet that “The Sox will win tonight.” Even at a young age, we never fell for it.

Happy Father’s Day, dad. And thank you.