Sunday, June 15, 2008

Happy Father's Day, Pop

I'd like to take this chance to wish my father a very happy Father's Day. This is a photo taken back in 1959 with the woman who made him a father: my mother Sheila.

So much has transpired in the 49 years between then and now that it is almost too overwhelming to reflect upon.

Our family has had some very good times and some very bad times, we've had our disagreements and our bonding moments. But one thing has remained the same: we have stuck together and helped each other through these things as best we could. And my father has always been instrumental in all of that help. There were times when, due to the situation at that particular moment, it would have been very tempting for him to just walk away and start fresh, but he never did. He never even mentioned such a possibility. He's a true man.

The last few years have been especially hard on my dad, as Sheila passed away and left a huge void in his life. It has taken him a few years to redefine himself and start to imagine life without my mother, but he has made it. We all knew very well that the first 12 months after the death of a spouse are the riskiest. A high number of spouses do not last to see the one year anniversary of the funeral. For whatever reason, either physical or mental, the ability to go on escapes them.

But Pop has come out the other end of this thing and is finally ready to spread his wings. He sees new things to get excited about, and I'm extremely pleased about that. There is a time to mourn, and a time to get on with things. This, now, today, is the time to get on with life. I wish you well, Pop, and I am very happy to see you've released the bow line from the dock and are out there sailing in the sea of opportunities.

Happy Father's Day!

1 comment:

  1. What a nice tribute to your dad.

    I remember when my mom passed on and we watched our dad go through that first year and how hard it was to watch. But, alas, he met another and got married. Five years later she passed on and once again he came to our house to grieve for a year.

    Then he moved back to Tombstone, met another one! In the years before he died, this one took excellent care of him. She was 20 years younger than him, more like a sister to us.

    ahh, memories....

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