Some time back, I mentioned that my dad died when I was an infant. He was 54. I was eight months old.
And there are no pictures (that I’ve ever seen) of the two of us together. That makes me sad.
I do have this photo of him, but I don’t know where or when it was taken.
It appears that he was a snappy dresser. I remember Mom telling me that, on Sundays, he always wore a white shirt.
My dad was a carpenter by trade. I have several pieces of furniture that he made, and they’re treasures to me.
It was difficult growing up without a father, but I think my mom loved me enough for two parents.
Since I have no memory of my dad, I hope I’m not “breaking any rules” by Linking up to Two Bears and The Three Cubs Memory Lane Friday.
these days of mine 