I owed a pic of Dad, the handsome devil. He belongs in my gallery of favorite things. Here he is in the chair from West Springfield that Scott & Jane just inherited from Dickie.
We were so different and so alike, we drove each other to distraction, were in frequent conflict, and really loved one another anyway. I'm sure he was baffled by Scott's & my behavior--talking back, being bad. His strict German Canadian father ran a tough ship--I remember Mom saying she was scared of him when she first met stern Pop-in-law Otto. But she got to know him and really loved him. Isn't much of family like that?
This other pic also belongs back with my other Dad pic. One of my fondest memories was being in Y Indian Guides with Dad. We got to do cool things, didn't have to be a jock like in Boy Scouts.
Can't remember what my name was... Heap Bighead? Little Nerdling? Brave Squishy Belly?
Hmmmm. Dunno
I miss him.
Me too, cuz, I miss uncle Pete, my
ReplyDeletefirst crush, those dashing eyes,
that devilish grin and uproarious (?)
laugh! our parents are/were much much more complex and intricate than
they ever knew or will know...self-contemplation seems an
indulgence of the next generation after theirs, which did what they did
for what they in their minds perceived to be truth, justice and the American way...who can blame em? In any event, your dad made me smile, probably blush, and I always, always enjoyed his company...I remember my last time with him at the Cape, how I ached for his unfathomable sorrow at the loss of your mom the year before, which he bravely hid behind those smiling eyes...
love,
zan