Walking with my Dad on the American River Bike Trail yesterday, he was feeling his age. During a rest stop, he looked out at the birds circling over the river and said, “I’m not really your Dad anymore.”
I stopped and stood in front of him, wanting to be sure that he not only heard my response, but saw my face as I said it: “You are and will always be my Dad. No one could ever love me the way you do.”
He replied, “And you’ll always be my Bets.”
2 responses to ““I’m not really a Dad anymore””
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I just found out through Family Tree DNA that our fathers are relatives.
My father is 84 and has done genealogical research and written a couple of books about that. The only problem in this research has been that his grandfather’s grandfather was unknown. Grandmother never told anybody who was the father of her son.
Probably the missing ancestor is some of the relatives of you and your father. It would be very interesting if your father would remember anybody in his family travelling in Finland in year 1863.
I can send you some pictures of that most distant ancestor of mine if you want.