A walk down memory lane

There is going to be a photo board at the visitation and I gathered what few pictures I have of my Dad and me and of him and his brothers and sisters. My baby book was lost in a move so I am rather limited in what I have but these are priceless.

What I want to talk about at the funeral is when my dad was young. He was 24 when I was born, a tool and die maker. I was born shortly after the war ended and there was a housing shortage. We lived with my mom's parents, and aunt and uncle, and my great aunt until I was almost five. We then moved to Wichita where my dad found work for an aircraft company.

My Nana's house was quiet and sedate as one could be with all of us sharing one bathroom in a five bedroom house. My cousin, Marcy, lived down the street and I believed for the longest time, her grandparents were also mine. Now, my Grandma Sears house was something else. There was always something going on...aunts and uncles, young and old, and food aplenty for any and all occasions. I love both equally each household for its own reasons.

My dad is so young in these pictures...he has hair! I remember stories about how he held a second place title for wrestling in the state of Iowa in high school and I can still hear my Grandma's voice telling me how he use to take her for boat rides and go so fast, she would wet her pants. He really was a tease.

He tried to help me with my math (hopelessly), was an amazing wood worker as I have said and I credit my creative streak as much to him as I do to my mom. He could not sing to save his life (guess I inherited that right along with blue eyes).

So, here is my walk down Memory Lane...Cheers Dad!