Happy Father's Day
"HAPPY FATHER'S DAY" doesn't m ean the same to those of us who's fathers have long since left us behind. My dad passed away on December 30th, 1975. My memories of him are faded at best these days, although I do remember a few things here a...nd there, as if they were yesterday.
I was always fascinated by the Seiko he wore. Not sure why. Maybe if was because of the cool dials that made it a chronometer. It was probably because he wore it.
To me, he was a wizard when it came to making a boat go faster than expected. He would spend hours getting it just right, and then the engine would roar alive and the boat would thunder across Lake Norman, reminiscent of the cars that drove Bonneville. I probably remember those days and our time on the water well because those were the same that seemed to make him smile the most. I don't think our neighbors shared the same enthusiasm, but maybe I am wrong.
Disappointingly, I remember little of the flights we once took, with him at the controls. I was always nervously excited to take a ride in the Jetstar of Falcon. A few years ago, my memory was jarred awake when I was fortunate to have the opportunity to look inside a Lockheed Lodestar at the CAF Museum in west Texas. The smell was just as if it were the '60s again. I would not have been surprised to have seen my dad in the captain's seat, hear the playing cards shuffle at the card table seats, or feel the texture of the seats as the distinctive twin-engine plane climbed into the clouds.
There are more memories, both good and not as good, but there are not enough of either. I'll always wonder what might have been. Regardless, Happy Father's Day, dad.
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