My father …

I miss my father.

I’ve been thinking of him lately.

It’s odd really.

I have wondered recently what it would be like to talk to him about relationships and guys.

Strangely, we never did when I was growing up.

And now that he’s gone, it’s something I find I would really like to discuss.

Well that and the fascination that people have with football.

You see, my father loved the sport.  So much so that when I was growing up, my mother made him promise to spend one day a weekend with the family.  You may not think this would be much of a hardship, however to my father it was like being asked to donate an organ on a weekly basis.

I imagine that today would have made him very happy.  Even though his beloved 49er’s weren’t in the game.

It’s at times like this that I wish I could see his handsome face light up with child like excitement once more.

Michael (my father) loved life, holidays, Summer time, BBQ’s and so many other special things.

I realize that I am just 6 years younger than he was at his death.

He was much too young.

Alas …

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6 thoughts on “My father …

  1. Don’t know what to say… except I kinda know how you feel. Super Bowl Sunday was a tradition for my dad no matter who was playing, he just loved the sport.
    And, he was the funniest person I ever met. I still lose my breath thinking of, or re-telling, some of the moments of hilarity we’ve shared. Thanks for reminding me of that and for sharing your memories.

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