Father’s Day, the day I thank the man who took me fishing.
On November 22, 1969 Dad turned 49. Two days later he was dead. I was 22 and my first son turned 1 that day. It is something that you don’t recover from, rather you incorporate it into your life, your story. It is just another event, another fact that is you.
I still wonder what it would have been like to have a dad to go to about being a dad. The truth is we didn’t have a great conversational relationship and so it may not have been all that helpful. Plus it was 1969, a seminal year of that decade and all those to follow.
Dave O’Connell sent me another digitized 8 mm film of us romping on the beach at Wildwood where we camped with the Heyden’s. That is the one thing that stands out, a love for the outdoors, fishing, hunting and camping, fathers and sons.
Thanks for that Dad.
Happy Father’s Day.