Today is my Dad’s 80th birthday.
I’m the smaller one in the picture.
He was my first hero. At 5 years old I suspected that he may actually be Superman, because he wore glasses, just like Clark Kent.
He did his fatherly duties as well as anyone could, maybe better sometimes. He’d take us out on weekend trips to the movies or the flea market or to a park. He took each of my siblings and I out for driving lessons. He takes care of his kids and grand kids as well as he can.
I remember once asking if I could take up model rocketry as a new hobby. He said no. Later, at one of the time my brother was practicing driving/parking in the parking lot at Candlestick Park, we watched some folks launching model rockets. Next thing I know Dad is taking me to Toys R Us to pick up an Estes Rockets X-15 starter set. Over time he built a home made launch pad for me, better than the plastic one that came with the starter kit. I built 6 or 7 kits and we probably launched a total of 5 rockets before I lost interest in it. At least 1 or 2 were lost to the winds of San Francisco.
He’s given us his unconditional love, as well as a few health scares along the way. At 50, I sometimes find it annoying how he still feels the need to make sure I have something for breakfast or dinner, even though I’ve been doing that for myself for over half my lifetime. But I get it.
Still annoying, though.
Happy 80th birthday, Dad! I love you.
