In 1972, my father—J. V. Gramlich—died on this date. Of a heart attack. I was 13. He was 58. He seemed old to me at the time but so much younger now. I had my own heart attack at 59 but survived. For nearly 30 years my thoughts turned automatically to him on this date. In many of those years I wrote a poem for him.
I realized this morning that I’d almost forgotten dad on this day. Only seeing a post on facebook about some celebrity who died on this date sparked my memory. And I realized that, for the last ten years, I have forgotten in many Aprils and have allowed the day to pass unremarked.
For a moment, a flash of pain swept through me. How could I
ever forget? But I know how. I have so many more things to think about today.
Work, of course. The semester is always busy at this time. But that’s the least
of it.
I have my own son to think of. He works too hard and rests
too little, and I see myself at his age in that. And I have a daughter-in-law
who is a great mother to my two wonderful grandsons, Silas and Sully. And those
boys! What wonderful, amazing, beautiful children.
And there’s Lana, who keeps our yard beautiful with flowers, and
who is so smart that we can talk about anything in the world, and who makes the
best spaghetti and meat sauce I’ve ever eaten, and who is just simply cute in
every way.
I don’t forget my father. I still have his photo (with mom)
up in my living room. But the day of his death no longer has the same power and
same pull on me that it used to. There’s too much life going on around me to
think very much of death.
That's too young to lose a father (I'm blessed to still have mine even as I'm qualified for Medicare, but my mom is gone).
ReplyDeleteI lost my Dad last year. There are days that I will see or read something and I think I need to call Daddy and tell him about it then I remember I can't pick up the phone and call him anymore. I talked with him every day. I miss him terribly.
ReplyDeleteI still have my father but lost my mother and I'm sure at some point there will come a day I don't think about her. We have to love them while we still can.
ReplyDeleteCharles Here.
ReplyDeleteJeff, I had my mom all the way to 93. Am glad for it.
MoMo, I well remember that feeling from those early days.
Alex, absolutely.
I make little effort to remember death anniversaries. On one level, I feel like I SHOULD, but on another I know it doesn't mean that I loved anyone less. When you wrote this, I was having prostate surgery, which, like losing my parents, felt like a rite of passage, nothing like as bad as their deaths, but still a reminder of my own mortality.
ReplyDeletemy younger son lost his dad when he was 13 turning 14
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Fine tribute to your Dad and family, Charles. Best wishes
ReplyDeleteI loved it
ReplyDelete