Today my father would have been 103 years old. Woulda, coulda, shoulda. My ole man coulda made it this far, but he shoulda followed a less self destructive path and he woulda, or maybe mighta made it to 103. I would be toasting him in person and not his memory.
The picture of my father on the left and his grandfather has always been one of my favorites. As a smart mouthed child, I loved to attempt to get his goat by saying "Daddy used to wear a dress" or "Look at the girly hair on Dad". I would eventually get his goat and be banished from his presence. Not for what I said, but for that irritating kid thing of repeating it endlessly until the adult in the room shouts "ENOUGH". Either one worked for me because usually I was fishing for some payback over a recent parental shutdown of one or more of my activities or planned ones. I was mad, so making him mad seemed the fitting thing to do.
It is odd I always remember my father's birthday. I am not very good with dates of any kind. I have even forgotten my own birthday on occasion. They don't seem that important to me I guess. Just another day on the planet. My father was the same way. One day unfolded pretty much the same as the day before. Why make a big deal of some and not others?
Of course this lackadaisical attitude about dates has caused some friction here at home. My wife is my polar opposite when considering dates. She remembers them all. And when I forget some of the big ones, I can count on a cold shoulder at the least and that death by stare look she uses at the worst. Damn, I hate that stare. If she was even an inch taller, I would fear for my life.
Anyway, just a note to remember dear old Dad and waste some bandwidth. Happy May 1st everyone!