Sometimes intelligible ramblings from a former teacher, publisher, aerospace worker, barmaid, and waitress
Sunday, August 23, 2009
For My Father
My father, George Monroe Gregory (the infant in the photo), was born 91 years ago today. Known as a hard worker, he also had a reputation for being a ladies man. At 5'6", he was attracted to tall women and married two of them: Melba June (my mother) and Lula Jo (my stepmother). He taught me to dance the two-step and encouraged me to reach for all that life offered. He died a few years ago, leaving a big hole in my heart.
I think when parents die, no matter if they were inept, crazy or jut plain absent, it leaves us with a void. And it doesn't seem to matter if we're 30 or 60.
In my life I've waited tables, raised sons, taught school, published books, and railed at politicians. I'm building a house, next to my son, where I can spend time with my granddaughter. I read, write, and dream about being immortal.
1 comment:
I think when parents die, no matter if they were inept, crazy or jut plain absent, it leaves us with a void. And it doesn't seem to matter if we're 30 or 60.
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