Paul Serafimidis Studio Shot
While this last Sunday was father’s day, I did not have much of an opportunity to think about my own father. Now I’m a father, and this weekend both my son Theo and my wife Sarah were sick. My 89-year old mother came over early and required a bit of attention. There was plenty to do around the house and in the garden.
Over the last couple days i saw several really wonderful, touching photos and stories in my flickr contact list. That returned my thoughts to my own father, and i remembered that this morning he appeared in one of my dreams. I don’t know if it was about him; I don’t often really know what my dreams are about.
In my dream, I was walking down the sidewalk with my father and my mother. We were walking down the street where we lived when i was very small, W. Cornell Ave. in Fresno. My father was walking the way he always did when I was a child: very briskly. My mother was walking painfully and slowly, with a walker, just the way she does now. I was sort of going back and forth between them. The strange thing about this was that my mother was out in front, and my father was lagging behind, despite his quick stride. That’s dreams for you. I don’t remember much else right now.
As the time wore on between Sunday and tonight, my vague thoughts about my father intensified and increasingly I wished that I too had thought to commemorate him on father’s day with a photo and a story. Tonight, a lot of these thoughts and feelings coalesced into the realization that tomorrow, June 18th is the 14th anniversary of his death. In 1994, that was a Saturday, the day before father’s day, and Sarah and I were driving to Fresno for a father’s day visit from Seattle, where I had gone off to grad school.
So tonight, I am posting to commemorate him after all. He was a wonderful person and wonderful father. I kinda wish I could channel him so I could be better at those roles myself. Perhaps someday, I will.
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