I can’t believe I missed this yesterday, but since I did, I guess I’ll post it today.
See, yesterday was my dad’s birthday. He’d have been 80. I really miss him, especially at this time of year. Four years ago at Christmas, we told him he’d have to wait six months for his Christmas gift – a new grandson. But he only made it three months before he passed away, so he never got to know the boys. But he doted on Bubbles.
Bubbles was named for my dad, and he always said he had to stick around to corrupt him. He couldn’t wait till Bubbles got big enough to teach him all about hobos and trains and girls and whatever other things he could think of to pass along (like incriminating stories of me, most likely). I wish the boys could have known him, too – he’d have gotten such a kick out of them: Cricket is so matter-of-fact that it’s hilarious, and Thumper is a regular chip off the ol’ block.
After finishing up my query critiques for Michelle Hauck’s holiday query blog hop, I’ve been thinking even more about my dad because one of the queries really hit close to home. It was a MG story about a girl’s relationship with her alcoholic father, and my dad’s drinking seriously strained our relationship as I was growing up. I wonder how things would be if he hadn’t died, and then I think about my mom, and the curious ways my sister and I behaved when they each died.
It’s been a rather introspective morning for me, but not altogether unpleasant. I had fun looking through some of my old pictures of my dad, but I couldn’t pick just one to post. Some of these I took when I was younger, and some of them were taken by others (family, friends, you get the picture). But they all made me smile, and I hope you’ve enjoyed them, too.
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