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of Doug's
"The Wondering Jew"

Jun. 13, 2007 - 23:29 MDT

IN SEQUENCE

Seeing that we celebrated our son's 63rd birthday not too long ago. He being our oldest, made me realize that soon, this Sunday in fact, our family will be helping me celebrate my 63rd Father's Day.

We'll have the house pretty well gussied up, the carpet shampooers will be here Friday which will finish it all off.

Heather is buying me a haircut for the occasion. Don't think it'll make me any handsomer, but she said she doesn't want any loose hair falling the the cake and ice cream.

Seems a pity to me that a man has to work hard to clean house, get a haircut and all that, to celebrate his own event. But whatever, it'll make her happy and I know I'll have a blast.

June 5, 1944 Doug III was born, World War Two was still going on, rationing of all kinds was in full force, furniture even was scarce. My father in law built a small crib for his grandchild and Heather and I were coping with food and gas rationing.

I made a promise to myself that our new child would have brothers and sisters and not have to grow up alone. That was an oath I swore on the fly because I had to learn to be a Daddy quick, took up all my spare time and then some.

Heather became a wonderful mother rapidly, getting up at night and without complaint went through all the drudgery that follows having a new born in the house.

When our youngest child (a girl) got married and went to Oregon to live, I learned just how Heather coped with being a newly wed and a new mother. The routine was the same for both things. Every morning daughter would call her Mom and draw on her previous experience to help her stay ahead of the game. I remembered Heather on the phone with her Mom way back then.

Of course this won't be a perfect celebration, our son Rob is gone and our daughter will be in Oregon, she can't get away this time like she did for my eightieth birthday. But then she was here for Christmas and possibly we will be there for Thanksgiving or Christmas this year.

Guess I better quit the blather, before it turns into teary blither, go to bed and get a good rest in order to have a joyful Father's Day.

So, 63rd birthday -- 63rd Father's Day, they come IN SEQUENCE . . . . . . . .

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