A Special Day

Today my Dad would have been 91. He was born in 1918, and his father died when he was eight months old. He always told us that he didn't know how to do the father thing but he tried. He was youngest of five children who were raised by a single mother. She never remarried until all of her children were adults and gone from home. Dad grew up poor and quit school after only eight years of school. It is hard to imagine how he grew up to be a kind, gentle man given his rough start. He never complained about his childhood or his poor upbringing. I never heard him speak of his mother with anything other than respect and admiration.
This April 18th, Dad will have been gone for four years.....Seems like he was just dropping off to sleep in his easy chair a few months ago. So today brings the sadness back in full force, and while we all have lost a quiet man, who said little but meant what he said, I still see him.
I see him in Brian's red hair, Lisa's calm manners and Karen's commitment to family. I see him when I find myself saying "We'll see..." and I am reminded of his focus and priorities when I look at his GED diploma sitting on my dresser in my bedroom. I remember being so proud of him for getting that. I was probably in grade school then. My dad was an optimist. I don't ever remember him being down about something. He was easy going and slow to anger. So today as I remember and grieve for Dad, but I smile also because I remember his simplicity and pleasure of small things.