Monday

I'm going to transcribe below in full a short essay that I wrote to myself on January 13, 2005 that I found in one of my infamous "piles" while I was rearranging my office over the weekend.  It struck me a little uncomfortably that I had let the anniversary of his death pass last week without mention.  Perhaps it was the travel, the IT problems, or just plain self absorption.  I regret the oversight.

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This is the day after the eleven-year anniversary of Daddy's death.  I'm not sure if that seems like a long time or not since his funeral.

I had my 56th birthday last week.  In the little age game that I play, Daddy was 56 in 1966.  In 1966, I completed my junior year of high school and began my senior year.  That made me 17 years old.  Also then in 1966, Rosie would have been 20 and a sophomore at Creighton.  Those ages make things pretty comparable to my current age differences with Mary and Kristen.

At 17, I spent most of my time playing baseball, basketball and working on the farm.  I dated Jane Doe (obviously an alias for the blog!) almost exclusively and we were "in love".  I drove an old Chrysler, I think, and made my first ever visit to Notre Dame.  (I rode the train with an Ottumwa lawyer who had graduated from ND and we stayed at the home of one of his classmates who lived in South Bend.)    In basketball, we got beat before a SRO packed-house at the Evan's gym by Ottumwa High School in OT in the district tournament.  I played baseball with most of the guys on the OHS team, and it was a bitter loss.

Its funny how life goes on.  I remember some of those things from 1966 in pretty vivid detail.  I wonder if my girls will remember their 17th year in the same way and if they will remember me in a positive light.

At 56, Daddy had been milking cows for over 40 years.  But the real joy in his life, I think, was politics.  By 1966, he had been an elected county supervisor for at least 8-10 years and he had a very busy world in that regard.  He loved talking with people.  And he went to many, many funeral home visitations.  If there was the remote chance that he knew the family, he would attend the evening service.  And he had quite a few evening meetings for the county supervisor's job as well.

Mother worked the 3-11 shift at Ottumwa Hospital at that time, so I rarely saw her of an evening.  I don't think that I stayed up as late as her arrival home after work.  She worked as a nurse-aide and earned minimum wage.  I think that we needed the money, and Daddy always said that she was as happy with that job as at anytime in her life.

She usually fixed me a dinner that I would heat up in the oven...no micro wave!!  She frequently cooked extra chicken on Sunday and made home-made TV dinners for me to have later in the week.  Chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy and corn!

I never had a job off of the farm, but I always had chores to do with the cows.  In summers, there was always lots of work with haying, fixing fences, and lots of other farm stuff.  I don't recall receiving a fixed allowance, but I always had enough money for treats with Jane Doe.  My summer free time was usually spent playing baseball.  Our American Legion team travelled to Cedar Rapids, Galesburg, Moline, and usually a long trip to Nebraska.  These were the trips where I learned to play cards...euchre, I think!

So anyway, 56.  Its not a bad time. It wasn't bad at 17 either.

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These little essays are littered in no small numbers along my winding path to here.  There are almost never any conclusions. 

More later.

BCOT