August 2004 Part II
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              A 
              while prior, I came across some of father's old photos: photos of 
              when he was my age, and younger. As stories were told, he too was 
              once a mischievous young lad. Now, as his second anniversary rolls 
              by, these photos are posted in memory of the youthful sentiments 
              that have over time matured into the love and care that a father 
              provides his child. 
              
              When you are a toddler, you think 
              that pops is the almighty one. He does the handiwork in the house, 
              and occasionally cooks too. He is your friend, your playmate, your 
              protector. Your troubles, he rids in no time. You cannot wait to 
              grow up. You cannot wait to be just like him.  
               
              Then, you grow a 
              little older. You go to school, and  begin to learn, that he 
              actually has limits—Bobby’s dad, and Heather’s dad, and Charlie’s 
              too, they each can do something that your dad cannot. And then, you 
              grow a little older still. In high school now, and you realize 
              that really, it is time to break free from him. Surely, he does 
              not fit in with your friends any longer. Surely, he tries to talk 
              you out of your choices. But, what is wrong with them? Why can you 
              not make the decisions concerning your own life?  
               
              Then, you grow a little older still, perhaps in 
              college now, perhaps working away from home, and pops may not be a 
              big part of your life any longer. Perhaps you are in a cold war 
              over some disagreement. Perhaps you visit him occasionally with 
              your girlfriend. You may have forgotten how long ago, you had 
              wanted to grow up just like him.  
               
              And then, and then, children come 
              along, and you become a father yourself. Pops is much older now, 
              perhaps grey-haired, and you yourself might be getting 
              some grey too. You realize how difficult parenting is, and want to 
              turn to your father for help. But something stops you short, and 
              maybe there is some guilt.  
               
              Some more years go by, and finally one 
              day, you realize how wise your father had been, and how different 
              things could have been if you had realized it long ago. But it is 
              too late, for your father has left this world. 
               
              Pops, you are with us in thoughts, and in the thoughts of many. 
              Your wisdom will live on, as will your love and care.  
                
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