My father, the Baptist minister
He's the one with his right arm raised.
circa before I was born
My dad died in 1973, when I was 19. I was a sophomore in college and ten days away from getting married to my high school sweetheart. My father and I had written the vows together (mostly him) and he was to perform the wedding ceremony.
By the time I was a teenager, he had mellowed somewhat, although he remained a minister until he died. He had begun to look at retiring and at what he was going to do in that second half of his life. He was taking an accounting class through Ole Miss by mail.
We were pretty good friends. He was my primary caregiver during most of my life. It took me a long time to forget and forgive having to live a profession that was not of my choosing. I'd like to talk to him today. I think we'd still be good friends.
Photo found on Facebook and forwarded to my sister (Springhill Baptist Church, Alabama)
4 comments:
That is a wonderful picture Judi. I haven't seen my dad since I was about 6 years old, so father's day really doesn't mean much to me.
Pam - Thank you. I was surprised and pleased that the photo found its way to my family.
Judy, I'm right there with ya. My dad died in 1984...I have a few photos of him and cherish them...I think we'd be better friends today than we ever were...
Akannie - Sorry to hear about your dad. I envy those who had an opportunity to know their fathers as adults.
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