Today’s date holds some significance for me, and perhaps for a few others. Thirty-five years ago was the day I first lost someone in my immediate family, in this case my dad. He was 62, had retired just a few weeks prior, and was with mom and a brother in Florida, setting up their condo for the years ahead. Mom lived another ~25 years in that space, and made the most of her years.
I was 25 when dad died, having moved to CA for grad school, married the year before and, to use current parlance, in the early stages of ‘adulting.’ Definitely learning by mistake, but definitely learning, I was looking forward to getting to know my folks and siblings as a ‘grown-up’. In time, of course, that’s happened–with all but dad.
As an adult I’ve come to know the dad I knew growing up, rather ...
Read More