Yesterday, someone asked when dad passed away. First I thought about the year, then the time of year. Then I smiled a rather large smile: two years ago, uh, today. Oops.
I think of pops often and no longer with those impressed feelings of grief stricken loss. His memory is quite alive. He had been my best friend, and so much of who I am came from him – and not necessarily by choice.
The above picture was taken on Martha’s Vineyard the day Bill Mueller of the Red Sox hit two grand slams in the same game. How poignant, I had said that baseball had become one dimensional with its new emphasis on home runs and steroids and such. After hearing enough dad said, “There’s nothing wrong with baseball.” The interjection commanded the attention and respect of a tractor trailer truck slowly entering a busy intersection.
The uncropped version of the above photo shows a crucifix above our heads: such angels we.
Miss ya, pops…
Tags: Bill Mueller, Martha's Vineyard, Red Sox
