Yesterday marked the thirty-seventh anniversary of my father’s passing. He was born on September 21, 1922 and passed away on June 4, 1977, at the age of 54. A wee bit of math shows that he died exactly 109 days short of his 55th birthday. I was born on September 22, 1959 which means that today I am 109 days shy of my 55th birthday. Today I am the exact age my father was when he passed away. Tomorrow I will be older than my father ever was.
I am far from unique in this; but it does provide me with food for thought. I imagine this thoughtfulness is a more acute phenomenon for people who, like me, lost a parent at a young age. With people living longer and longer, “outliving” your parents is the assumed end result. As each generation benefits from better nutritional knowledge and medical advancements it only stands to reason that folks will live longer than their parents did.
But I believe the earlier you cross this lifespan Rubicon, the more it makes you think. By the time my father was my age he had fought in World War Two, been married for thirty years, worked at Seagram’s distillery for twenty-five years (an irony, as he was essentially teetotal, having a drink only on rare occasions such as weddings) – receiving his congratulatory watch mere months before passing – and was the father of three, and grandfather of one.
Because of the efforts of my father and millions of other volunteers, I have been spared military service and war. I had the opportunity to earn two university degrees, yet have had several “careers” of varying lengths, ranging from months-long to sixteen years in duration, with no golden watch looming on the horizon.
I can take a picture with my mobile phone; he wasn’t a big fan of the telephone that hung on our kitchen wall. He bought tickets from a streetcar/bus driver while I charge my bus pass and scan it to gain entry to the Metro and bus.
He read a newspaper and took tablets for various aches and pains. I read the newspaper on a tablet.
Having birthdays one day apart, I like to think we had many things in common as well as the above differences that are all environmental in nature. An interesting birthday story: while I missed being a birthday gift for my father by several hours, I was a present for my grandmother with whom I shared a birthday until her passing. Moreover, my maternal grandfather signed his World War One Canadian Expeditionary Force attestation paper on September 22, 1914 while his as yet unknown to him future wife was celebrating her 22nd birthday in London.
26 thoughts on “Today I Am My Father’s Age”
That was a really good one. Thanks.
You are very welcome.
I am touched by your reflection. My Dad died just shy of his 83rd birthday, however, I often think of his father who died at 44 years in 1927. When my grandfather’s anniversary comes around, I think of this the man my father hardly knew and how his life and death shaped mine. How both father son relationship were radically brused by Granddad’s death. It is anyone’s guess how life would be different if he had not left so early. Thanks for the opportunity to write.
Thanks very much for your thoughtful comment.
Indeed a wonderful reflection on your father.
As always, thank you for your comment LGS!
This is wonderful Deegan
Thanks so much!
Very nice. P.
He would have liked that, well done Deegan.
I marked that day as well. It means they passed too soon. It means we needed them around just a little longer. My mother is in a nursing home already living 100 years. She tells me life without Dad was easier. Certainly from her perspective I can’t argue. But she stayed with him because of my perspective. That’s incredible love.
Thanks for taking the time to comment. Very thoughtful indeed.
Your welcome. By the way I’m glad you made it.
How fascinating the connections that you draw here. Lovely post.
Touched by what you wrote.
Thank you for sharing! 🙂
Wonderful comments all. This past March 25 the family celebrated my father’s
birthday – 100 yrs old. He passed in 1989 at the age of 74. It went so quickly.
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