This is not the type of thing I usually write about, but...
This is one the few photos of my dad that I have, standing outside the Alberta Legislature in his RCAF uniform. Hard to say what the year is, or how old he is. I barely had any time with my father, and never got to know him at all. On a blistering cold December 18th day he died, and that was it. The memory images of that day are bizarre and frightening and come around now and again.
I think about him all the time, and more so at this time of year. Not that it would help, but I know next to nothing about what he did as a young man or what he was like. And none my elders who knew my father have ever shared anything. And of course I often think about what our lives would have been like if our families had been better or luckier.
As you can imagine, it's not hard for me to understand why many find this time of year full of mixed emotions.
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