April 12th is my Dad’s birthday. He would be 89 today had he not died in 1977 when I was 9. I’m sure you don’t care because everyone has or had a dad at one point. It’s kind of common if you think about it so why should anyone care.
I don’t have many memories of him left other than the pictures my mom took. I don’t remember what he sounded like. Even looking at his picture seems strange. It’s like looking at a picture of a stranger.
He was a good man and a great father from what I do remember. He was very creative. He invented the weed-eater and the Jet-Ski back in the 60s. Too bad he didn’t patent the ideas. I can see where I got so much of my technical and DIY abilities. It must be hereditary.
He made the weed-eater by attaching a vacuum cleaner motor to a mop handle. He put plastic “strings” through two of the blower vanes. It was extremely fast and violent but it worked.
I always wonder how my life might be different had he not died from heart disease when he was 48. I’m not sure they had stents or angioplasty back then. He could have easily been saved as I was when I turned 48 and suffered the family time-bomb.
How is a boy affected by growing up without a father? Not having a father-figure to guide him through the structural years. I did the best I could and now I am as I am. I’m sure my whole life would have been different. Better? Maybe. Perhaps I would have turned out like all the regular people. Would that be good? I’m not so sure. I don’t really want to be one of the regular people.
Whatever. These are the chronicles of life and death and everything between.
Happy Birthday, Dad, Wherever you are.