Today is a very special day. It is the day that my dad would have turned 100 years old. Obviously, he didn’t make it. He passed away at the end of 1999, a little over twenty years ago.
Dad grew up in the depression and was the product of a broken family. His father left the family when he was younger. Dad went into the Navy and was on one of the destroyers that accompanied the mine sweepers in order to clear the water for the Missouri to come in for the signing of the surrender.
Dad lost his mother to tuberculosis. He was a sad person throughout his life. Looking back on it now, I would easily label him as depressed. Of course, back then, we didn’t use those labels. Dad was just gruff, sad, and unpredictable. He employed physical correction with whatever was handy. It was not an easy childhood for any of his boys.
But that was because dad wanted to provide for his children and did not want us to be disappointed in him. But, because of his upbringing, he didn’t really know what a father was supposed to be. He mellowed in his later years after having a couple of mini-strokes. His heart broke when mom passed away several years before him. She was his life and it was tough on him.
But all that is water under the bridge, as they would say (and to keep to some nautical terms for his sake) because he has been called to the Lord and doesn’t have to worry about sadness or being away from his wife or his beloved mother.
That awaits us all. At the end of our days, we get to go home and be reunited with all those we love. Personally, I can’t wait for that day. How glorious it will be!
Happy Birthday, Dad. 100 years down. Eternity to go.