steve from staten island
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My other thread got me thinking about my father. He's gone almost 13 years now. He was 83 when he passed. Im almost 66 so yes i think about him and i do the math
This is kind of melancholy so maybe some will appreciate it and why it entered my head i dont know
I was born in 52, my parents lived in a little apartment they rented from my dads cousin. Part of the deal i think was they maintained the coal furnace or maybe everybody did, but i do recall my mother with a big fat belly shoveling coal into that furnace. The belly was my brother
My dad was a garbage man for the city, back then they didn't make much and he supplement'ed his income by delivering newspapers on Sunday and other little jobs
Often during the week he'd bring me home some little toy. I was very young. The toys were never in a box but it was always a little something. I was a small child i didn't understand. One day he told me he had something, but i noticed he was washing it in the sink. He dried it and gave it to me. I always wondered why he would wash that toy. It was only when i got older did i realize these were toys that were thrown out into the garbage and my dad would see them and take them home and give them to me to play with.
It still to this day even as i type this hits me in my heart, almost a tear. I hope you liked this as it was kind of personal but i wanted to share it. Thanks
This is kind of melancholy so maybe some will appreciate it and why it entered my head i dont know
I was born in 52, my parents lived in a little apartment they rented from my dads cousin. Part of the deal i think was they maintained the coal furnace or maybe everybody did, but i do recall my mother with a big fat belly shoveling coal into that furnace. The belly was my brother
My dad was a garbage man for the city, back then they didn't make much and he supplement'ed his income by delivering newspapers on Sunday and other little jobs
Often during the week he'd bring me home some little toy. I was very young. The toys were never in a box but it was always a little something. I was a small child i didn't understand. One day he told me he had something, but i noticed he was washing it in the sink. He dried it and gave it to me. I always wondered why he would wash that toy. It was only when i got older did i realize these were toys that were thrown out into the garbage and my dad would see them and take them home and give them to me to play with.
It still to this day even as i type this hits me in my heart, almost a tear. I hope you liked this as it was kind of personal but i wanted to share it. Thanks