ElderChicks

My father was a wonderful man.  Funny, caring, loving.  He adored my mother for almost all of his life (he was six when they met). He always stayed in touch with ALL our families. And very old-fashioned.  When we went into the city, he made sure he walked on the outside of the street near the curb in case someone would throw something out of the windows.   He worked hard, and when he came home, we would have dinner, and my mother would jump up to get whatever he asked for.  Of course, as I got older and feminism became the norm, that annoyed me no end, since my mother was also working at the time, but as she reminded me, it was  a different time.  I went to say kaddish on the anniversary of his death last year, and as the prayer was being chanted, memories of him rushed to my head, and I got sort of weepy-eyed.  Afterwards, a woman asked how long my dad was gone, and I said 20 years.  She thought it had just happened.  I still miss him.