A Photograph of Emotions

I was surprised to receive this photo in the mail the other day from a distant relative. My dad’s cousin, Marilyn, pictured three from the right in the front row sent it to me with a lovely note about recently receiving two copies of the photograph and thought I would like one. She mentioned that she wasn’t sure of the year, which led me, the youngest in the photo, to quickly try to figure out. 

My train of thought went something like this….my parents were still married, so it had to be before 1985, my brother looks the same as a photo I have seen many times over the years of him after an accident that happened in the early part of summer 1984, but his leg cast is off, my hairstyle matches that of my 4th grade school photo, taken later in 1984. Must be 1984! 

The train then switches tracks….wow, that would make me just a year older than my daughter is now and my son just a year older than my brother was. 

Next track….oh my G-d we are ALL in the same photograph! ALL meaning my mom, dad, brother, sister and I. This may very well be the only photo I have of us all; my mom was always the one taking photos and my dad was never quite fond of being in photos. 

The train, remaining on the same track veers…oh my G-d we are ALL smiling! Of course my parents aren’t next to each other, but we are ALL smiling! 

After analyzing this photo deeper it occurs to me that this one photo, possibly the only photo of the five of us shows my family just as it was/is. My sister, the firstborn, has her arm around my mom, touching her, laughing, showing how close the two of them have always been, friends. My brother, in the middle, just as in birth, is a balance between our parents, trying not to rock the boat. Then there’s me, the baby of the family, sitting on my dad’s lap, smiling, happy to be with him, happy he is there. 

Not only is a picture worth a thousand words, but many emotions as well. What a gift to have arrived in my mailbox, many miles and years away.

Happy Birthday, Dad!

On Facebook I see people write statuses wishing people happy birthdays who aren’t even on Facebook and therefore will never seen it. I have read heartfelt statuses to friends and family who have died. There is no Facebook in heaven in my friends (at least not my heaven). Although mistaken for a private journal Facebook is incredibly public. 

With that said I want to wish a very happy birthday to my most loyal reader of my blog - my dad! I will not disclose his age, although I’ll be the first to admit he doesn’t look it. Working hard, both mentally and physically, his arms show muscles of a much younger man. His stories, that are easy to listen to, are what show his age. Stories about flying on airplanes when security was minimal and there was no need to show up hours before your flight. Although being the punctual person he his, I do have a memory of being dropped off at an airport three hours before my flight. He has stories about growing up in a time when hanging out the gas station was what guys did. A place to talk about cars and girls too, I assume, because after all back then the gas station wasn’t just a place where you filled your car up, it’s also the place the mechanic actually worked on your car too. He has stories about working in New York City during a time when the mob was at its height…..and that’s all I’m going to say about that, because this blog after all is quite public as well :)

My dad is the one who will send me an email reminding me I haven’t posted anything to the blog in awhile, so being that I just posted yesterday, it may be awhile before he sees this. But, I’m sure he’ll see it before my card arrives in his mailbox (oops, time slipped away, sorry Dad, it’ll get there within the year). 

My dad is social, but chooses to live in his house quietly when he isn’t out visiting with the mailman, bank teller or other people he runs into throughout his day.  My parents were divorced 28 years ago and I figured he’d remarry when hell froze over. That was before he met Lisa a few years ago. He found a woman to listen to his stories, and live quietly in his house with, all while supporting her to reach her dreams; most recently of learning how to drive and get her driver’s license! On the day of their late October wedding there was a blizzard; I wouldn’t call Connecticut hell, but it sure did freeze over that day. The following year there was a hurricane on their anniversary. I guess this is the woman he was suppose to grow old with, one birthday at a time! 

Happy Birthday, Dad, I love you (as do most people who know you)!

Happy Father’s Day

When I first started this blog, I didn’t know who, if anyone, would read or care about my thoughts. I also wasn’t sure what I would get out of sending my thoughts off into cycberspace to be documented forever. 

In the beginning I honestly thought it would help me to not bombard my husband with my random thoughts as he walked through the door after a long day at work. I didn’t realize how time consuming it would be to write. Trust me when I say many reflections and random thoughts pass through my mind throughout the day. Each one I think will make it onto the blog and then life interrupts.

I’ve been “blogging” for 5 months now, and there is one person who drives me to write as often as possible, whose comments mean more to me than others, and that is my dad.

I sent the link to my dad in the beginning not really thinking he’d read it, as you’ll see by his first comment, there were too many words and not enough pictures. Then one day, to my surprise, he told me I had to write more because he keeps checking and there’s nothing new to read. I took those words of encouragement to heart and for him I write. When he reads something that concerns him he calls me to find out more.

There are many times that technology frustrates me, but for today, Father’s Day, I am so very thankful not only for my dad but for this blog that connects us and for the video chat we shared earlier tonight.

Thank you, Dad for caring enough to read all my words, I’m trying to post more comics for you. And to those of you who are not my dad, and are quietly reading this, I thank you and I still wonder who you are.