Today would have been my father's 76th birthday. He has been gone a long time now, nearly 20 years, but I still think about him just about every day. I wrote a piece last year about him that you can find here.
As I've said before about my dad, if he'd had his druthers he would have changed some of the circumstances of his life. But he did make the most of the opportunities he had and that's a lesson that I've always tried to absorb.
4 comments:
He was a great man. I am glad that I had the chance to meet him more than a few times. He was even nice to me as he was calling me on my bs. I remember the first time that I came here after your little brother gave me the link. I looked at your picture, and saw a very strong resemblance to him. You remind me so much of your Father. Not only in what I recall him looking like, but also from what your siblings have said regarding him. All of you have many of the good qualities that I have heard spoken of him over the years. He did a great job in raising you guys. It could just be the fact that you are the oldest that you look like I remember him.
Yep, I miss Dad every day. It's incredible to me that so much time has passed since he's been gone - in many ways it feels like it was just yesterday.
Thanks for the kind words about Dad, Jason! You're a good egg :)
Jason,
Thanks for the kind words. Being nice while calling someone on their b.s. is a very apt description of my dad. And know this -- when someone in our family calls you a "good egg," as Marge did, that is high praise indeed.
Marge,
Every day. And mom, too.
I can't remember if I shared this with you earlier or not, but it's been very helfpul in my family and for others who have experienced the same thing:
Shifting the SunWhen your father dies, say the Irish,
you lose your umbrella against bad weather.
May his sun be your light, say the Armenians.
When your father dies, say the Welsh,
you sink a foot deeper into the earth.
May you inherit his light, say the Armenians.
When your father dies, say the Canadians,
you run out of excuses.
May you inherit his sun, say the Armenians.
When your father dies, say the French,
you become your own father.
May you stand up in his light, say the Armenians.
When your father dies, say the Indians,
he comes back as the thunder.
May you inherit his light, say the Armenians.
When your father dies, say the Russians,
he takes your childhood with him.
May you inherit his light, say the Armenians.
When your father dies, say the English,
you join his club you vowed you wouldn’t.
May you inherit his sun, say the Armenians.
When your father dies, say the Armenians,
your sun shifts forever,
and you walk in his light.
- Diana Der Hovanessian, from the book “Selected Shorts” published by Sheep Meadow Press.
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