Last night T mentioned that it was exactly 29 years ago that my father died. February 20, 1978. I hadn't thought of it. For 29 years I guess I've been an orphan, though I don't think of myself that way. Mostly I think of daddy when I have my colonoscopy (he died of colon cancer) or when I see Lawrence Welk, or someone
balancing something. He was 64. My husband is now older than that. Weird. Dad was very funny; I wish I had appreciated him more.
2 comments:
What lovely photos of your Dad. Was balancing things like that his "party piece"? I too don't think of myself as an orphan, and it's weird to have people call me one, though it is the case.
He entertained the kids with his balancing. I have some great pictures of him when he was a young man (maybe a teen) doing his balancing thing.
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