I adore this photo. It was taken circa 1944, either in Egypt or Palestine, I can't remember which. It is my Dad. He was eighteen years old, and though I say it myself, isn't he handsome? Yesterday would have been his 84th birthday. There is so much I could tell you about him. When he died in June of last year, the minister (an Army chaplain) sat with me and my two sisters and talked to us about him. He never knew my dad, but after an hour and a few cups of tea, he felt that he did. The minister was amazed with the hobbies my Dad had, his accomplishments, and his life experience. So often, he said, he sits with families of the deceased and asks them about the departed, and they draw a blank. Well, what did he like to do, he will ask. What were his hobbies, etc, etc. If he is lucky he will get a few things he can use. He said we had given him so much, he hoped when his time came that people remembered him with such love and pride. Dad always set us a good example, he was fun, and funny, helpful and kind. At the end of his life he had senile dementia, he was so sweet and trusting. His short term memory was non~existent. The afternoon before he died, I got to his room, and my sister told him I was there, he sat up with great difficulty and with vacant eyes gave me a smile. He knew me. While my sister got some much needed rest I sat through the night with Dad, holding his hand, and softly talked aloud about my childhood memories, I sang him the nursery rhymes that he had sung to me when I couldn't sleep as a child. I also told him that it was okay to go, that we knew how tired he was. Early the next morning he raised his head from the pillow, and with a look of wonder, he gazed past my sister and I and was gone.
I miss him most days, yesterday more than most.
This is a personal post, not the one I had intended, but I needed to write it.
I made the pumpkin bread yesterday afternoon, after some delay. I bake more often these days, and two people can only eat so much. I was looking after Madison, Dad's youngest great grand daughter. Madison and I ate slices of it warm from the oven, and when my daughter in law picked her up, I gave them half to take home. It was only afterwards that I realized I had forgotten to photograph it. My eldest grand~daughter Olivia loves to watch the Cooking channel with me, she wishes that as well as picture and sound we could smell the food. I think she is on to something..