I've become my father.

Thanks jacknife. Ain't life a hoot! My Dad died about 10 years ago. I have his High Standard .22 still with the box and reciept for $48 from August 1967. I am my old man.
 
Beware the man who only owns one gun. really enjoyed your post, your dad reminds me of my father in law. thanks,ahgar
 
Hey there Jacknife,

That post was Superlative. I re-read it out loud to my Wife and kids and it sparked a very nice discussion amongst us. Your gift of the written word affected my family in a very positive way. Thanks for sharing that fine tribute to your Dad with us!
 
Jackknife, That was a great read. These are the kind of stories that make you pause and reflect. Would like to hear more from you or anyone else that has a nice anecdote like that to share. Tim
 
Thanks Jackknife.
I lost my dad this spring, and reading this brought back some great memories.
Like you, I didn't understand or appreciate what a great man my dad was until his last few years.
/ Karl
 
Thats the true tragady in all of this Karl. It had to wait till almost to late to appreatiate what he was. Even though we came to a understanding and had a good relationaship in his last years, it was not till after his death, then the passing of my mother, I fully understood him. Sometimes there's things that you just don't know about that will affect your lives, even though those events took place a long, long way away. As a teenager I had thought my dad dull and uninteresting. He was the man in grey, un-noticable in a crowd. It was not until my mothers passing that her papers and some diarys fell into my sisters hands, that we understood that everything about my dad was a carefully thought out plan. Apparantly after the war, he became hooked up with one of the spook shops out of Washington, and continued on fighting for his country in the cold war.

It was only after reading my moms diary that I could think back on this strange quiet man who was my father, and understand his behavior. His way of being totaly un-noticable, his almost passion for avoiding clothing in bright colors, the choice of a car that was as ubiquitous a car as possable, the sudden absences and little gifts for my sister and I from Europe when he returned. I came to realize that this man had spent his entire life serving his country in a way that would never be recognized or rewarded. Nor did he seek any recognition. He just did his job quietly.

I would have loved to been able to tell him how very proud of him I was, while he was still living.
 
What to say jackknife...
You have all the right in the world to be proud of your dad.
I'm sure that, somewhere, he can still hear you, taking part of your love for him.
 
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