In Dad's Memory

Dad died six years ago today.

Christmas Party at St. Lucian's 1999

As the younger of his two daughters, he liked to introduce me to people as his baby.  One of my earliest memories is of him holding me in his arms and introducing me, as his baby of course, to Myron Kokocinski who worked behind the meat counter at Thrifty Supermarket.

ca. 1955  Dad and his baby

As I grew older, the opportunities for Dad to introduce me became few and far between.  In my 20s I remember feeling mildly annoyed and even a little embarassed when such occasions arose. 

ca. 1978 - baby on the right

By my 30s, I felt vaguely insulted when I was introduced as his baby--after all, I was a competent adult with babies of my own.  But by my mid-forties when dad was living in a nearby retirement home, I finally recognized the unique nature of our bond and the specialness of being his baby.  Yes, I was a wife, mother, sister, aunt, etc.--but no one else in the whole world could claim me as their baby.  With dad in his mid-eighties, I also realized that the time left for him to call me his baby was growing shorter and shorter--and it was indeed a label and part of my identity that I would miss. 

Christmas 2002 with his grandkids

My father was always a deeply religious man, so today of all days, I hope he's up in heaven watching over his family.  And by the way, Daddy, your baby says Hi!