A Page from the Photo album

Dad's birthday . . . 19 years ago we drove to Los Angeles to see Dad in the Veterans' Hospital. He lived in Bakersfield at that time. It was his 66th birthday and his last. Today he would be 85.

The summer months just before that our nation was at the beginning edge of a recession and Dad had found himself out of work. For as long as I can remember, Dad's solution to every problem was to drown it in vodka. Years previous to that he had told us numerous times that he was a "functioning" alcoholic.

Well,possibly his only function during the summer of '92 was to drink vodka. By October he had drank himself into leukemia, cancer of the blood.

Visiting Dad was not pleasant because his language was so caustic and his message so sarcastic. We went to see him several times in that hospital during the next couple of months. Through his wife's words I learned that he was very proud of me, his youngest daughter, because I had returned to school, earned my degrees, and had a job that he could be proud of. It would have been nice to have heard that sentiment from him, rather than his wife, who I think was his 10th, yes that's right, his 10th, and certainly she was younger than I was. Giving compliments was something that Dad did not do often, or maybe he did, they were just always lefthanded compliments.

My dad was an only kid and he never had to cater to anyone else. He was spoiled rotten while he was growning-up. So that's a little background on Dad.

The whole story as I now choose to believe it, is that he did his best in the husband department and in the father department. His best may not have measured-up to most people's worst, but it was all that he had. I believe that Dad meant well. I don't think he meant to be mean and nasty or sarcastic. Without the vodka, Dad would have been an entirely different person.

I learned most of my life skills and the things I value from my mom and my stepdad, but I know for sure that I inherited my love of writing from Dad. I also think his "can do" attitude was passed to me. Surely that was why he was proud to call himself a functioning alcoholic.

Thankfully when his first marriage ended, Dad didn't continue having kids with each of his succeeding wives. This morning my older, and only sister (we are Dad's only two children), emailed to let me know that it was Dad's birthday. I wanted to reply, "Duh!" but that would be reverting back to our childhood antics. She was playing her role of older sister quite well.

The first words out of my mouth this morning to Mr. Fun were, "It's my dad's birthday." He's been on my mind all day. Later I did respond to my sis's email and basically said, "I can't imagine Dad as an elderly person. I don't think he could either, so he did his best not to live to be elderly." His mom, my Grammie Teele, lived to be 91years young. She never thought of herself as elderly. I know she was more than proud of her only child, my dad, even though he caused her plenty of frustration.

Dad was born in Los Angeles and I think spent part of his childhood in Santa Barbara. As a young man he worked for the phone company and for the remainder of his life he either worked for them or as a contracting engineer. In his adult life he traveled all over the states, to wherever he was offered work.

Less than two months after his birthday, on December 22, Dad was still in Veterans' Hospital when cancer claimed his life. He just seemed way too young to be gone. So today was thoughts of Dad -- all day.

Good night from Southern California.
Rosie (& Mr. Fun), aka Carol

P.S. More about Dad -- his photo from a year ago here in the corner.

P.P.S. The photo reveals a little about why Mr. Fun was nicknamed "Mr. Fun."

P.P.P.S. Our daughter, and her daughter and son are also in the photo.