Today would have been my father's 87th birthday (we think). This picture was taken in 1982, when I was visiting for Thanksgiving with my soon-to-be fiance. Although I grew up in Connecticut, this was taken outside my parents' house in Southwick, MA.
My father was born in Chicago in 1919 (at least that is the story we got). My grandmother was a flapper more interested in the Chicago party scene of the time than being a mother. We don't know who was my father's father. His older sister of 5 came back from living with her grandparents to tend to Dad. Fortunately, George Booth took the whole of them into his life, married Nanny and became a father to the two kids, moving them all to Memphis then Connecticut. Wake knows more of the story than I, and Gretchen maybe more than either of us.
Funny thing about that house. I moved to Texas in October of 1979. When I returned for a visit in May of 1980, the house I had grown up in was gone. Literally. It had been sold for parts. They didn't tell me where they had moved to either. And they didn't pick me up at the airport when I came back that first time. I had no address, no phone number and no blood relatives meeting me.
Like a bad penny though, I found 'em.
Happy birthday again, Dad. I know you have more peace now than you did most of your time here. I still love you.
