Mar 17 2020

Birthday

Published by at 5:55 am under Family,Memories


Dad heading to school, circa 1936

My father was born on this day in 1931.

He left us too soon, on August 18, 2001, at the age of 70. As I approach 60 – I am turning 58 this June – it is a little alarming to think that at my age, he only had 12 years left to live. I am consoled that he lived them with Margaret, who I believe was the love of his life. They were so well-suited to each other. They were from similar backgrounds, about the same age, and loved art, traveling, wine, good food, and books. They had many wonderful adventures together, and I am glad to know that the last years of his life were some of the happiest.

Some years, I am happy that I had Dad in my life and had that kind of love and support which I now realize many people – even most – never have. I was lucky to have experienced being loved by someone who knew all the worst things about me and loved me anyway. But the grief is the price of the love, and this year, I am sad and angry that I lost him so long ago and so young.

If you’re joining this telenovela in progress, here’s a brief recap. Dad was taken off blood thinners for a routine gall bladder surgery, and the hospital staff forgot to put him back on them, so he died of a blood clot in his sleep the night before he was supposed to be released from the hospital.

Life has never been the same.

I know Dad wouldn’t want me to be sad when I thought of him. So I will try to think about this little boy, so excited about his first day of school, just the beginning of a fine academic career that would culminate in a PhD in organic chemistry and a Doctor of Science degree awarded to him by the Queen Mother herself. He loved his work, and made important contributions both to the world of science, and the world.

Little did that boy imagine how far he would go in life or how many adventures were ahead of him. It may have been short, but it was a wonderful life.

A YEAR AGO: A festive birthday celebration.

FIVE YEARS AGO: Remembering Dad and the happy, golden summers we spent in Maine.

TEN YEARS AGO: A chilly birthday.

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO: A visit to one of the most beautiful beaches in America. Again, I’m sorry to say that the photos didn’t come through, but you can have a peek here.

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