Ten and a half
On this day, back in 1989, my dad passed away at 30 years old.
I was about ten and a half at the time; only old enough to create and retain a few memories that have lasted this long: the way he looked, what he drove (how odd is that?), and a handful of vacation-like events we enjoyed together.
As of today there are so many other things I cannot remember: his voice, his general personality, or any day-to-day interactions he had with my sister, my mom, myself…
My oldest son is now about ten and a half and I sometimes find myself thinking: if I were to go tomorrow, he and his brothers will have access to so many videos of me and I’m glad they’d have them because I wish so very much that I had videos of my dad.