Ninety-nine Today

A ninety-ninth birthday story.

He drove me to St Paul one day in the early fall of 1961. We were alone for one of the few times in our lives. We stopped and had a hamburger in that small town, I think it was Kettle River, that had what we thought were the greatest burgers in Minnesota. We didn't talk very much, but I'm sure he gave me some advice that I have since forgotten. It was my first trip to St Paul and to Hamline, where I was to spend the next four years - a place that changed my life. I think that he knew that I was gone for good - that I'd never really live at home again. He helped me to carry my few belongings to the dorm room that I was to share with a complete stranger. He stayed a few minutes to say goodbye and then, with a long drive home in front of him, left me to begin my new existence. I guess that he knew that I would be okay, and that he had other responsibilities at home. He had to "hold the nozzle agin the bank" for a while yet.

You can't ever forget your father. It is all right to forgive him.

"Another gorgeous day here in southwest Florida." - WINK news reader.