Each year on this, his special day, I thank God for my daddy’s love and example.
|Daddy showing off his new birthday shorts
decorated with Jack-0-Lanterns & Bats.
If my dad were alive, he’d be 103 today. And if he hadn’t had a second bout with the horrible Big C, with his good genes, he might have been with us yet. (His dad lived to 96, and the doctors said Daddy had the vital signs of a young man.)
But as it happened, the cancer that started in his colon turned up in his lungs and brain several years after we thought he’d won the war. Before we knew it, he was gone. He lived about six weeks after symptoms set in, and marked his 84th birthday one day before he died.
|Daddy and Mom in happy days.|
|His Better Boy tomatoes were the best!|
I have a feeling he’s playing and singing with a heavenly choir today.
I am so grateful for Daddy’s influence in my life. If I end up being half the person he was as far as kindness, joy for living and perseverance goes, I’ll feel proud. Some of you know he kicked a drinking habit when I was very young and never fell back into it. He worked in AA for the rest of his life. And he refused to give up on those who struggled with addiction problems. He’d tell them, “Get back up. Start again.”
Copyright © Reflections from Dorothy’s Ridge 2014. All rights reserved