Today would have been my Dad's 92nd birthday.
It's hard to believe I've been without him for 18 years.
He never met any of his American great grandchildren.
But he would have taken enormous pleasure in all of them.
As the sun set tonight, Isabel and I played some music for Dad.
10 comments:
Immediately, I see you have your Dad's long legs. Was that taken near the same location where your Mother was hanging you by your legs? You do love being a Grandfather, don't you?
Namo amida butsu.
I do. The wonderful thing is that every grandchild is different. Isabel's favorite thing to do with me right now is to make music. A few weeks ago I was playing drums and she was playing piano. This week we were on guitar and harmonica. What next?
This is about 3,000 miles away from the other picture you mentioned.
More than dying on your own Laser, Don't you wish you live long enough to see each of your grand children sailing their own Opti or FJ? Isn't that the finish line?
Hadn't you noticed Doc? The "Cheat the nursing home. Die on you Laser" motto is no longer on this blog.
The new mantra is, "Sail fast. Have fun. Don't die."
I have no special wish to see all of my grandchildren sailing. If some of them choose to sail that would be fine. But I expect they will have a variety of interests and if they want to become ballet dancers, ten-pin bowlers, pianists, footballers, artists, ice skaters, bagpipe players or squash players that would be fine too.
I think my Dad enjoyed being a grandfather just as much as, if not more than, being a father. He loved all little kids, whether his own grandchildren, or children of friends, or his nieces' and nephews' children.
Don't we all learn how to be fathers and grandfathers from our own fathers?
As my soul slides down to die.
How could I lose him?
What did I try?
Bit by bit, I've realized
That he was here with me;
I looked into my father's eyes.
Good point. I sometimes reflect that maybe my dad did not do me a favor introducing me to sailing. I've spent a fortune on it.
EC = m2
What a fab photo and a lovely memory.
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