A DYING BREEZE
The time had come; it was 8:15 on the morning of August 14th, 1998 - thirteen days after my father’s 63rd birthday. We all took note of the fact that he was about to die at the same time, and on the same day as the Manheim Auto Auction he had attended without fail for as long as we could remember; it felt fitting.
*an excerpt from my cancer memoir entitled CAR DEALER'S DAUGHTER
1 comment:
That's so odd. My father died at age 63 as well.
You had a lot more time with your dad than I did with mine. And I'm glad for you. And I've often wondered what it would have been like to see him age beyond that year. And to what extent he would have celebrated me being gay. We never got to talk about it. I hadn't come out yet, when he died.
Your story of you and your father, also with your mother, gives me good insight into how tricky life is, and how we get through things we probably never thought we could. Somehow.
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