It occurred to me recently that I'm the age my
father was when I was born. Most people experience this, and I have no new
insights or revelations about the experience. It's just something rattling around
in my noggin, and so I'll add a couple of pictures of him:
This first one is with his brother Manual (Uncle Max) on the right. As my own brother said, they look like a couple of Filipino gangsters.
The second one is with my mom. My father died when I was two, and so I only know him through stories other family members told me. Looking at this picture, and knowing of the times, I begin to appreciate more the difficulties that they both had with being a couple and raising their children. My mother never talked to me much about this. I may have been too young. Or perhaps it was just the way things were and they simply carried on without complaining loudly about it.
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