My 23 Year Old Dad.

My 23 Year Old Dad.

image

My dad.
The enigma.

He passed in his late sixties from cancer in 2005.
Too young.

For most of my adult life we maintained an uneasy truce, where we agreed to disagree on pretty much everything.

He got a kick out of me and my sister when we were small and sang our camp songs, and wore our hair in “piggy tails.”
I loved to make him laugh.

He expected good grades, clean rooms, and no sass.
Oh well, two out of three.

His blood runs through my veins, so I know that’s where I got my work ethic, ability to fix stuff, love of science fiction, his colossal sweet tooth, temper, love of cars and driving, his goofiness, skinny legs, boney feet, blue eyes, control issues, and lack of respect for authority, and tolerance for stupid people.

I actually feel him more and have a better relationship with him now that he’s on the other side. It’s just the two of us, so it’s so much less complicated.
From that perspective, he “gets” me.

Happy Father’s Day Dad! Love you.

Xox

Hi, I’m Janet

Mentor. Pirate. Dropper of F-bombs.

This is where I write about my version of life. My stories. Told in my own words.

Join The Mailing List

Join 1,304 other subscribers
Let’s Get Social
Categories
You Can Also Find Me Here:
Follow

Get every new post on this blog delivered to your Inbox.

Join other followers: