Jane and I, having no one to call on this day, went out to our favorite pub and lifted a glass to the two men who made us what we are…faults and all: they were remarkable individuals. Jane’s dad grew up on a ranch, my dad grew up on rural streets, on his own, except for an uncle and aunt. And they developed character and grit, both—were much on the out of doors. Jane’s dad was about horses and flying in the aviation pioneer sense…my dad was about hiking and fishing and wild country, and both of them were good carpenters when they needed to be, and taught us the skills. They’d have liked each other. We cherish happy memories on such a day.
Everyone who has a father in reach of a phone call, as ours no longer are, take advantage of the chance if you possibly can.
What she said. (Hi, Dad!)
I’m so glad you both had a good Father’s Day–been scanning back through the blog–you’ve certainly been having some rough times and deserve the respite and all good stuff.
Just wanted to say, CJ, I found myself in Joplin several years back. The people I’ve met there were some of the nicest I’ve met anywhere. This is not an empty statement–see username.
Joplin is where I rescued my beautiful dog, Rosco, and it took me and two groomers four hours to pull all the ticks off of him. (Here in the Maine woods, we have ticks. In Missouri, they have TIIIICKS!!!)
So I’ve been wishing comfort and good things for Joplin, and hugging Rosco.
My best to you both, and I’ll be praying for Jane’s good health.
Seconding good thoughts for Jane.
One of my crustier friends was surprised to find you were still writing, CJ; I had to set him straight 0_o 😉 He remembered some of your books being released back in the 70s, first printing.
Lol—my first book was in 1975
Good thoughts appreciated. Jane’s next visit with the hemotologist is Wednesday, when they need to get it right and decide what to do.
Keeping my fingers crossed for you, Jane!
Like you and Jane my Father has been gone for some time. He died in 1976 at the age of 59. As I approch my 60th in a few weeks I think about him often. He was not perfect, but he was a good Dad. Happy Fathers Day Dad where ever you are.
I still have my dad, but at 89, he is nearly deaf, almost blind and becoming very frail. Still, he’s a survivor — the 4th of 5, and the only one still living. He survived WWII as a Marine in the Pacific, and the three major abdominal surgeries he had for colon cancer (which he beat). Being around him now is like watching someone take a long fatal fall in excruciatingly slow motion and being helpless to do anything about it.