Jim Sr., 45, & Jim Jr., 26, November 1983

I’m a bit sad at the moment, as this night rolls into Father’s Day 2011.  He died when I was 49, and sometimes I find myself missing something that never was, and wondering about what might have been.  He was who he was, and it’s surely a waste of time to pine over something that never happened.  I wonder how he felt when he lost his dad, at 28.  He never said, and I never asked.  It’s odd how the person that is the closest to you can be the most distant.

I’m reminded of one particular moment with my Dad,  and I’ve thought of it often over the years.  Father’s Day stories are often heartwarming tales of the past,  a wonderful moment shared between father and son.  This isn’t one of those stories.

He was trying to teach me to swim, and only managed to scare me into a crying heap of shamed little boy.

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