January 15, 1938 is my Papa's birthday. I have written about him several times and if you want to, you can go here to read the other times and see the photos.
Today would have been his 74th birthday, and you know, 74 isn't really all that old. And that makes it all the harder to deal with the fact that he died just weeks after his 57th birthday. 57.
The closer I get to 57 the more I realize how young it really is. You know how that goes.
So while everyone else is out celebrating the birth of Martin Luther King and having big grand marches in his honor (believe it or don't, the largest MLK march takes place here. Isn't that amazing?) and enjoying having a day off tomorrow, I have a higher priority in remembering my Papa and what all I learned from him. My kids were only 8 and 9 when he died and they are the oldest of his grandchildren, so it is really important to me that I keep telling them things about him so that they know. My sisters' kids are a bit younger and I don't think have too many real memories of time with him.
It's sad that it only takes 2 generations before the stories are all that is left of a life well-lived and well-loved.
I take this as a constant reminder to spend quality one-on-one, look-you-in-the-eyes time with people. I don't ever want to leave things left unspoken. I would like for people who know me to know that what they get with me is the real me, no holding back, no polite fakeness and hopefully no regrets.
LisaPie, I can so relate. My beloved dad died at 66. Dropped dead just like that. He was not ill, in fact, he was one of the healthiest people I know. You're so right, it is a lesson learned in how to treasure those you love, while you have them.
ReplyDeleteHappy Birthday, Papa! xoxoxo
ReplyDeleteJanuary 15 would have been my sweet dog Jackson's 14th birthday. I was sort of weepy all day. Dogs and Dads just don't live long enough.
ReplyDelete