May 1977
This is my favorite picture of my Dad & me. It was taken in May 1977 while I was 2 years old. This picture is the only way I know this event took place. Isn't it a bummer that we don't retain such memories?
I mean I remember my Dad and me kicking the soccer ball back and forth in the backyard.
I remember him using silly voices when he read me stories before bedtime.
I remember the massive waterfight he battled against me and my friend, Hazel where he actually ended up cracking ribs in an attempt to jump over a fence to get the jump on us. Of course we didn't realize he was actually hurt when we ambushed him with the dog's water dish giggling madly as he lay in crippling pain. I wonder if he can laugh about that yet?
I have all sorts of good memories but while I love this photo, it still saddens me that I don't actually remember everything.
Anyway this makes it sound like my Dad is dead. He's not. I recently sent him a watercolor I did of this photo. And in my own defense, watercolor painting is really hard.