Sunday, 17 April 2016

Remembering My Dad

Several people have remarked to me (IRL) that I've not written much here lately. I always say I've not quit, I just have other stuff to do. I didn't get much feedback from readers here and while I do post mainly for my own amusement, it got a little lonely at times. Facebook is far easier than blogging for social contact. However, I don't want to stop my habit of remembering my loved ones here and Facebook doesn't seem appropriate for the sort of brain dump I do here; not to mention it's impossible to find things there once they drift off your screen. Anyhow... 

On this occasion of my Dad's birthday I've pulled out some photos that seem quite unlike him to me. It's not just that they were taken before I was born, it's the hat. By the time I came along he didn't wear them any more. I think we've lost something with the demise of regular hat-wearing.  

I never saw him wear vests either. I think they're called waistcoats over here; a vest refers to the undershirt my grandpa wore, sort of like a tank top. My dad never wore that sort of vest when I knew him, but he always liked loud neckties, as you can see here.

I like these photos because he looks happy and relaxed. I'm guessing they were taken up north in Minnesota (because of the big lake) so this will have been in the late 1940s. 

I think this last picture is my favourite. It shows one of his characteristic expressions. 

Happy Birthday, Daddy. Long gone but never forgotten.


Bev said...

Hello. I found your blog some time ago through Frugal Scholar. Completely understand about not getting comments, so wanted to let you know that I've thoroughly enjoyed reading your posts. Glad to see you back.

Shelley said...

Thanks very much for your comment. As a blogger you will know the uplift one gets seeing comments to be read. A cousin in Sydney mentioned reading this post in Sydney and I was amazed and encouraged by both of you. Will dust off some of my draft posts and get back to work!

tess said...

Lovely to remember. My dad always wore suits & hats to church on Sundays. The pews had clips for storing hats. I miss him and his dapper style.

Shelley said...

Tess - What a nice memory. My dad never attended church. Mom joked that lightening would strike, the ceiling fall in, etc. when he gave me away at my wedding. Clips for hats sounds wonderful. I love old pubs that have hooks under the bar for coats and hats. I miss my Dad's wry sense of humour most of all.