Friday, February 12, 2010

February 13...

keeps coming back around, much as I wish at times it wouldn't!

Dad would have turned 83 tomorrow, and for all the baggage there was between us before I left for the Navy, we made up for it after I was out and moved home and his grandkids were born. That one son has no memory of him and the other only has the slightest ones is one of the sadder things I ponder altogether too often. 26 years disappear for me each time I touch his tools, or his old Ambassadeur 5000 (baitcasting reel)'s yesterday again and he's chiding me about his "educated thumb" being the reason he can cast 15 feet further than I, with the same reel, rod and line.

Little did I know 'til I took his apart for the first time after he died how educated that thumb truly was; he had taken the brake cylinders completely out of it!

Know you were and are still loved Dad...and missed terribly!

May the weekend be kind to each of you who find your way here!



robin andrea said...

A truly beautiful remembrance of your dad, alan.

GirlWhoShould said...

Anniversary's are especially poignant. A nice tribute x
Lucy x

zilla said...

Now, there's a man whose memory is for a blessing -- and for a chagrined chuckle! Well done, my friend.

CrackerLilo said...

Beautiful as always. It really doesn't matter how old you are or how long it's been. I do know that the old cliche is true--that your departed loved ones still live in you and your actions.


Anji said...

A lovely post.

Keri Renault said...

I was touched deeply by your recollection. It gave me pause to consider.

Although my father is alive, he and I have never shared anything more than an antagonistic relationship. Still, after more than 5 decades of emotional angst, I embrace that hope springs eternal.

I accept him as he is and love him in spite of his shortcomings even as I lament he's not been able to transcend his own insecurity, pain and fear in 75 years.

Empathy has fostered an attitude shift. These days I reach out with affection, love & hope when I call home. Not an easy thing at first. But perhaps it partially explains why our long distance conversations have been friendly and engaging of late.

From my vantage point at 52 years of age, life's too short to hold grudges and wallow in self pity. And so I move forward, not back.

Thanks for the poignant and inspiring recollection of your father. A beautiful & loving tribute.

Samantha said...

Wow, great post Alan. I wish I had some really good memories of my Dad from when he was still corporeally focused. Long, long, long time ago I was Dad's little girl, until of course I actually said something about it. Years after he died he apologized for being such an insufferable bastard, but it's not quite the same. Especially given that at this point in my life, there's a body of anecdotal evidence that very strongly suggests that the man I knew as my father might not actually be genetically related to me.

Your's tampered with his reel, doesn't surprise me, fathers like Starfleet engineers tend to shall we say fudge things to keep their reputations safe?

Naukishtae said...

Alan, I think we would all like to have had your memory... I know I always wanted a memory like that one.. so you are blessed with something wonderful.. that we wish were ours... many blessings Alan...


ryssee said...

Great post.
I know I'll never forget the date mine passed away either. And it's true you never know what's going to trigger a reminder.