MEMOIR TO FATHERS

I think about my father a lot. I suppose one of the reasons is that he died suddenly when I was 18. He was 46. (I played softball against him the night before. Young guys against the old-timers. We young guys won, much to their dismay). Our relationship was close, but at my age, not near complete. I think it is the unfinished business that keeps its presence with me after 49 years. The wondering what our relationship might have developed into? What he would have thought about me? I am much different than he, yet in many subtle ways, the same. Had he lived, he would be 95 now. I have a hard time imagining him at 65, much less 95. Even at 46, I remember him as being "kind of old". He could have lived another lifetime. That would be a lot of time for things to really go good, or really go bad. It's funny to think that death ends a relationship. It doesn't. It only changes it.