The man I called Dad was not my Father. My biological Father bailed when I was 3 and my sister was a newborn. I could never get too angry with him for leaving my Mother, in fact I understood that to well. I remember wishing that he taken me with him; other than that I never thought much about my father.
The man I called Dad was born in 1900; we always knew how old he was. In 1950 he was 50 and so on. I believe he loved me, as much as my Mother would allow anyway. He was a strong man both physically and in many other ways. I can't say how intellectually strong he would have been, he had a grade 4 education. Even with that level of education he was 3rd class marine engineer as well as a 3rd class stationary engineer. My Mother was 22 when she met him and he was 42. He had just become a widower with 4 children and of course my Mother had Peggy and I. Because of the age difference his children were older than my sister and me. Over years they at one point married, I don't remember it, I believe they were married by the justice of the peace, I know it was not a large affair.
When I was 8 years old my Mother had a child, my brother Sam. Actually his name was Roy after his Father, but for whatever reason he was called Sam from the day he was born. When I was 10 and Sam was 2 my dad decided to try and get his 2nd class Engineers papers. This never happened because the rules had been changed and he would need to write for his 2nd class papers. When he got his 3rd class papers apparently no one had to write for their papers, they just did an apprenticeship under the men who were engineers and if there were tests it was hands on work. As I said my dad had grade 4 education and his writing and spelling were not good,
I liked my dad, I probably loved him, He knew all kinds of neat things. He had a trapline every winter and spring, He augmented his income this way. He caught skunks, racoons, weasel and fox in the winter and muskrats in the spring. All winter our house smelled like skunk, we got used to it but school mates would hold their noses when we went to school. My dad could fix shoes, I remember he had a metal lass or last I am not sure how it was spelled. I recall him putting our shoes on it and adjusting it to that size then resoleing our shoes. I am pretty sure no one does that anymore. He played the mouth organ and could also play the fiddle. He was an amazing man and I realize now that I never appreciated him. He died in 1960 at 60 years of age. I was pregant with my fourth and last child and my sister was pregnant with her second child. We both gave birth within 2 months of his dying.
Thoughts About My Dad
Tuesday, February 19th, 2013...........7:22p.m.
