I still had my daddy…
My father was going to be in my life for only four more days, yet I had no idea.
November 20th forty years ago was a Sunday. Although I typically have a pretty good memory with some things, my almost 91-year-old mother could still tell you exactly what happened on that day – and every day. What I do recall is that was the date the TV movie “The Day After” aired, and my father & I were eager to watch it. A film depicting the devastation and horrors of a nuclear holocaust, it was not something my mother was interested in seeing at all. She left the house and I believe maybe went to go play bingo at church.
I can still see my father and I in the big kitchen of the apartment where I grew up in New York City – he, sitting at the table in “his” chair, by the built-in kitchen wall cabinet, and me sitting on the opposite side of the table. We were hunkered down, excited to view this monumental movie event.
What I distinctly remember is my father – for all intents and purposes – was not sick, but healthy as an ox, as he usually was. There was the issue of how his years of smoking were starting to affect him. But that night, sitting at our kitchen table, watching a movie with my dad, my 22-year-old self could not imagine in my wildest dreams what the next few days would bring.
Side Note: Sixty years ago – on Wednesday, November 20, 1963 – President John Fitzgerald Kennedy attended a Democratic Congressional leaders breakfast. Some of them were concerned about his upcoming trip to Dallas, Texas…
Oddly Enough 