Today is Father's Day. My father passed away in 2004, and even though I was in my 30s, the shock of losing my father reduced me to a 5-year old. I do not intend this post to be sad, because I don't want my dad to be looking down on sad children, so I thought of this today...
In 2005, a year after my dad died, I took a business trip to San Antonio, TX. I was there for a conference, along with 2 other co-workers. After the conference, we had a full day to kill, so we decided to go to the Alamo. It was an interesting tour, and I learned a bit of history, but that was nothing compared to the sense of peace I found. Why? Because my father told me he visited the Alamo in his youth, and I made a connection.
We were told by the Alamo tour guides that we were not allowed to touch the walls or anything inside. I ignored those instruction. I secretly went to each and EVERY wall and touched them, fingers spread wide, because I wanted to touch history...not the history of Bowie, or anyone else, but the history of my dad. Maybe, just maybe, he had touched those same walls as a kid, and my hand prints were meshed with his. I love you Dad, and I think of you often, and sometimes when I'm going through something that either pisses me off, or makes me snarky, or makes me sad, or tired...I think about what you would have me do, and it makes me feel a bit better.
Here is an article I wrote for one of my local Philadelphia newspapers about my dad. It would mean a great deal to me if you read it. Download CHLocal_Dad.h
--Fortuitous Observer
