The gentleman above with the widow's peak and wide-awake eyes is my father as he appeared c. 1956 - 1957. In carefree moments he sometimes liked to clown for the amusement of onlookers, in this case a parakeet named "Poncho" and a funny-looking dame named "Mom," in teardrop eyeglasses, who took the snapshot for reasons now forgotten. Dad was born on 16 September 1919 in Chicago and died on 6 July 2009 in Joplin, Missouri.
As I told a friend a moment ago in an email, my father's death was not a surprise. He eked out an extra decade or so beyond what most who knew him thought he would. I had a very good visit with him in the spring, and he knew my sons and I were at his bedside during the Fourth of July weekend. He and I liked and respected each other, and we had no unfinished business between us. His suffering after breaking his hip was relatively short, and he was kept physically comfortable until the end. His services were a combination of fundamentalist Baptist (for his Joplin family) and a military ceremony provided by a four-man VFW detail (which I, personally, appreciated a bit more than I would have had I not been associated with the U.S. Army over the past two decades).
I believe that Dad was always somewhat alienated from mainstream society but tried his best to fit in. He made his share of mistakes, but no more than I've made. No matter what his fortunes were financially and career-wise, he always could find a away to enjoy himself. As I think back on it, I don't ever remember hearing him complain about his lot in life or the unfair hand that life dealt him, even though I think either complaint would have been understandable at times. In trying to overcome my own negativity over the years, I've looked to his example as a man who knew how to find satisfaction in life's simple pleasures. That's a fine legacy, as far as I'm concerned.
Very sorry to hear about your Dad and I'm glad to know you and he were together at the end. You posted a lovely tribute. Your last two sentences are especially poignant.
ReplyDeleteRWK died July 4, 2002, and I still think about him every day. Indepedence Day sucks for us both, now.
I should also say I love the picture. Wide-awake eyes indeed.
ReplyDeleteThanks for the thoughts, j. As I've mentioned before, some RWK vibes still resonate inside me and inform my worldview to this day.
ReplyDeleteEven if you like the Selig-in-drag photo, I'm not sure what you would think of his "Baby New Year" pix, wherein he dressed in nothing except a simulated diaper (a bath towel, I assume) and presented himself festooned in a sash announcing the New Year. He did this at least a few time when he was in his 80s, even taking the spectacle outside into the winter night. His "adopted" 10-year-old granddaughter thought it was a riot.
I think I would love it! Why not?
ReplyDeleteSorry to hear it. It sounds like there's a rich trove of stories to remember fondly and with which to celebrate his life. If we "become our parents" (at least in part) looks like you could have done far worse. My condolences.
ReplyDeleteL.M.