My Dad & Me
This was Easter 1957, and I remember when this photo was taken, but I'm not sure who took it. I think it was my mother. The things I vividly recall are the textures of the things around me. I can still recall touching the little woven purse with the leaves and bird attached to the top, and the feel of the plush bunny and even the face and cloth of Humpty Dumpty. I remember my dad's touch- strong and gentle.
My father was not what most people would call a good man. He couldn't be faithful to one woman, and although I believe he loved me and my brother, it was very much an out of sight, out of mind thing with Dad. He didn't really go out of his way to provide for us once Mom had had enough of his womanizing and drinking, and we moved to Florida. It was always a battle to get him to fulfill his obligation, and most of the time, Mom lost out.
Life has a way of getting even. Christians refer to it as, "what you sow, you reap", and much of the world calls it "karma", but it's basically the same thing. Justice comes, whether in this life or the next, and my dad's began at the end of his, when his girlfriend, whom he'd lived with from the time he and Mom separated, passed away suddenly, and since he'd put the house in her name to keep my mother from being able to prove he had anything of value, as he did with everything, her relatives kicked him out and he ended up living in a basement apartment next to the railroad tracks with my half sister, and went into kidney failure, having to endure dialysis 3 times a week until he passed away, one month shy of his 93rd birthday.
I don't know if Dad was true to his last girlfriend, but I think he just ran out of steam! They were compatible. He was the type who didn't want anything to rock his boat. He had a simple and uneventful way of living, and nothing was more important to him than his own happiness. He had his good points, in that he appreciated the world's beauty, loved the ocean, was a tremendously good swimmer, could build just about anything, loved animals, and was really good around children, as long as he wasn't expected to really be a father to them!
I already knew, even at this tender age, that life wasn't very stable, but I adored my dad. My favorite memories were moments like this, cuddling up close to him and smelling his Old Spice deodorant and hearing his heart beat. those were the moments when I felt safe for a while. After the age of 10, I never felt that way again.
I still miss my dad, but mostly, I miss really having a father. Even at 60, the scars remain ...
My Dad & Me
This was Easter 1957, and I remember when this photo was taken, but I'm not sure who took it. I think it was my mother. The things I vividly recall are the textures of the things around me. I can still recall touching the little woven purse with the leaves and bird attached to the top, and the feel of the plush bunny and even the face and cloth of Humpty Dumpty. I remember my dad's touch- strong and gentle.
My father was not what most people would call a good man. He couldn't be faithful to one woman, and although I believe he loved me and my brother, it was very much an out of sight, out of mind thing with Dad. He didn't really go out of his way to provide for us once Mom had had enough of his womanizing and drinking, and we moved to Florida. It was always a battle to get him to fulfill his obligation, and most of the time, Mom lost out.
Life has a way of getting even. Christians refer to it as, "what you sow, you reap", and much of the world calls it "karma", but it's basically the same thing. Justice comes, whether in this life or the next, and my dad's began at the end of his, when his girlfriend, whom he'd lived with from the time he and Mom separated, passed away suddenly, and since he'd put the house in her name to keep my mother from being able to prove he had anything of value, as he did with everything, her relatives kicked him out and he ended up living in a basement apartment next to the railroad tracks with my half sister, and went into kidney failure, having to endure dialysis 3 times a week until he passed away, one month shy of his 93rd birthday.
I don't know if Dad was true to his last girlfriend, but I think he just ran out of steam! They were compatible. He was the type who didn't want anything to rock his boat. He had a simple and uneventful way of living, and nothing was more important to him than his own happiness. He had his good points, in that he appreciated the world's beauty, loved the ocean, was a tremendously good swimmer, could build just about anything, loved animals, and was really good around children, as long as he wasn't expected to really be a father to them!
I already knew, even at this tender age, that life wasn't very stable, but I adored my dad. My favorite memories were moments like this, cuddling up close to him and smelling his Old Spice deodorant and hearing his heart beat. those were the moments when I felt safe for a while. After the age of 10, I never felt that way again.
I still miss my dad, but mostly, I miss really having a father. Even at 60, the scars remain ...