Today is Day 18 of the March Slice of Life, a writing challenge hosted at “Two Writing Teachers”
Today is also my father’s birthday and he would have been 91. He died in 1972 at the age of 49, when I was 20.
He had a number of loses in his life. His mother died when he was very young and his father remarried when he was 8. He did not particularly like his new mother and was a bit of a jokester I am told.
He joined the navy at 17 and married at the end of the war. Shortly after his son was born, his young wife died. He married my mother when my older brother was 5. I was born a year later, followed by a sister and 2 more brothers.
There are so many small memories that came to me this morning as I was thinking of him:
*he was a great reader, reading even when company was there, much to my mother’s embarrassment.
*being told that he was “only resting my eyes”, when I caught him sleeping and snoring on the couch
*making our ice rinks. I can still see him wearing his huge old navy coat and fur-lined hat, holding the hose to flood the rink, night after night
*playing cribbage with him
*eating onion sandwiches.
*playing with our boxers
There are many ways I am like my father – in my build (he was 6′ with a husky build) and , dark thick hair ; as a reader, and good at math, He was outgoing though and could talk with anyone but he did not suffer fools well. He worked for the Bank of Montreal most of his adult life and moved up the ranks fairly quickly.
Thinking of you often Dad! happy birthday!