Sunday, June 16, 2013
Memories of my dad are bitter sweet. I was probably closer to my dad than my mom but hew was a very quiet man. He grew up an only child and was small even in adult life. My mom was an inch taller than him. He was raised by a mom and dad who were the typical southern Victorian family where manners and values mattered. From before I was born, he worked out of the house so was home a lot. My parents waited 9 years before having children as my mother wanted to work. Once she had my older sister and then me, she became a full time mom and home maker. They both were together constantly and he would pick us up from school at noon and bring us home for lunch every day until we reached junior high school. He was always there for us. I rarely remember him dressed in anything other than a suit and tie (outside the home). He always wore a hat. All his ties were red. He was well known and well liked in the town we lived in. After my sister and I left home, he and mother grew even closer even though she had returned to work. When he got old enough to retire, he continued to work from the house and mother then retired to be with him. He was always somewhat frail and in his later years my mother wound up taking care of him. I am so thankful for the father I had and the impact he made on my life.