Tuesday, June 12, 2018


It comes every year now, June 11th is Mom’s and June 12th is Dad’s anniversary when they died. I really don’t know what significance there is to this but none-the-less it is real.

As we go about our lives every day, our children, our jobs, and interest can take us away from these realities and numb us into forgetfulness.

I am currently waiting for my grandson to be born, I am currently trying to put to bed a book I wrote and designed for someone, the agency occupies my mind and one of my children has pain in his tooth that needs attention.

Yet, I forgot about my parent’s anniversaries. How disrespectful and self-centered I am, I forgot my parent’s anniversary. I feel like a heel and unworthy son and in need to get my priorities straight. Dad worked so hard to give me chances to succeed, he wasn’t perfect, but he was and is my dad, my male hero.

Mom gave me nothing but love. Oh, she was quick with the wooden spoon, but that was for her long-term plan, to make me a decent human being. I don’t know if she succeeded, but she took the time and tried. I forgot, and so I need to remember who I am, and what I should be.

And so Mom and Dad, I will not necessarily remember your anniversaries, but I will remember what you did for me, that you will always come to me at tender moments, when the World seems to be against me, the times I step down from the train and there you were waiting for me in your car, to take me home.

Dad with his flannel shirt and ever-present cigarette, wiping his windshield from the dampness and mom, in her apron, wiping her hands from the masterpieces she created as I arrived from the train, my supper waiting for me after a day of school or work, are the symbols of the unspoken love they shared with me.

Mom and Dad, I am sorry to disappoint you.

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