Saturday Faces…

The new, now generation

Went about their business

At car washes, laundromats

Faithless and faithful

Proclaimed mantras

Of brashness, impatience

Disrespected, objects of disrespect

Not all of them deserved

Refused to stay kids forever

Some went back where they came from

Some to where they belonged

HAPPY HUNDREDTH BIRTHDAY, DAD

Dad at my tiny apartment

Today is Super Bowl Sunday, roman numeral, something or another.  I was thinking, that today, was also your birthday.  It’s a special birthday, too.  Almost everybody, thinks they’d like to live to be a hundred.  However, not many actually do.

Thirty-seven years later–I’m glad my older brother was such a shutterbug, and saved this picture of you.  You’re seated in my dinky, two-room bachelor pad, wearing typical bib overalls, reading a magazine.  I’m amazed there were enough chairs to seat everybody. This picture speaks of honesty, hard work, forthrightness–because, that’s the way you were.

You, mom, my brother, sister-in law, and nephew, sought shelter from a late-winter ice storm in 1978.  Your electricity had been out for quite some time.  The storm stayed to the north.  I was happy to have some company.  And, I may have cooked for everybody?  My memory fails me on that point.  But, that’s not important.

The tables have turned–in more ways than one.  Things have changed a bit, since you left.  We’ve all gotten older–have grandchildren of our own.  I’m, now about the same age, you were, when this picture was taken.  Time sure does fly.  I remember you and Mom saying that all the time; and not believing it.

“Stop tooting your own horn–tell everybody why this is such a special occasion.”  That’s what you would say; dad, you never were given to sloppy sentiment.  I now, know why it was so important to pay attention in school and church.  I wake up, meditate every morning, watch the sunrise–just like you always did.

I worry about things more than I let on.  It’s no longer all about me.  There’s great joy in watching children, grandchildren grow up.  And I know, there’s even greater joy, in watching them succeed and be happy.  True friends are increasingly hard to find. Some have already passed away.

Thought you’d like to know, the home place is in good hands.  Your only daughter, and son-in-law live there now.  They’re retired from teaching–moved back from Ohio.  The grounds are lovingly maintained–as are the house, and out buildings.  Mom, grandma, and grandpa would like it, too.

Several have said, how much, some of us favor you.  A companion picture of me, taken on this same occasion, looked a lot like you.  My sister, said, “My younger brother has the same walk.”  As much fun as it’s been to walk down memory lane–there have been differences.

My footsteps didn’t always follow yours.  We didn’t always see eye to eye–especially when I had to move back in with you and mom.  I think we were like two bulls locking horns.  As your, rebellious, sometimes stubborn, second son; I’m glad you were there for me–and Happy 100th Birthday!

“Those trapped in the present, can’t appreciate the past, and may fall victim to the  future”