I have been thinking a lot everyday about my father. Life sometimes is unfair, he worked so long until he was almost 80. After years and years of hard work he deserved to have a long period of non work relaxation. Instead about 2 years after he stopped working he died. The last year of his life was a slow decline with bad health. Dad only ended up with maybe a year of healthy non working time. He worked his whole life. My father left the farm and started working in a lumber camp when he was 16 and he continued to work hard until he was 79. He finally stops working and then he dies at 82? What the f-ck is that? Sometimes life is unfair, dad deserved at least a 10 year period of laying around enjoying life. He earned the chance to sit back and relax but he never got to do it.
Note* Look at dads hands in this picture. I always thought my father had such beautiful hands. His figures so straight and long, no arthritis, no veins, bad nails or loose skin. Even as dad got sicker and sicker his hands stayed beautiful. The last time I saw him in the coffin I looked at his hands and they still looked that way.
Note* Look at dads hands in this picture. I always thought my father had such beautiful hands. His figures so straight and long, no arthritis, no veins, bad nails or loose skin. Even as dad got sicker and sicker his hands stayed beautiful. The last time I saw him in the coffin I looked at his hands and they still looked that way.
Digi shot of dad (82) made in the late summer of 2014 |