My dad would have been 79 today. He died when he was 55.
I was 19 when he died and the farther I get from 19... the more I realize I didn't really know him too well.
In his memory, I tried to think of a unique memory to share. This is the one I came up with.
Let me take you back, way back. I was a child in the 70's.
I loved my dad and I knew he loved me. How do I know?
Well, because he took LOTS of pictures of me. :)
Really, how could he resist?
Occasionally he would photograph the entire family. We were a happy crew, let me tell you.
Hmmm... looks like mom was happy...
Anyhow! I was a small enough that sometimes my childish imagination would get the best of me. And somehow, someway, I was convinced of one truth.
I believed MY dad was Elvis Presley.
Yes, that's right. Mr. Blue Suede Shoes himself.
The King.
Now, what in the world would EVER possess me to think that, you may ask. Well, there were pictures around our house. Pictures of my dad and I had seen pictures of 'The King'. If the Easter Bunny was real, surely my dad could be a rock and roll star by night and father by day.
Here's the proof:
Dad? Elvis?
Elvis? Dad?
See what I mean. Hard to tell. Especially to a 7 year old.
Why did we move to the south east? To get closer to Graceland perhaps?
Crew cut seems like a perfect cover. Product designer by day, slap on that Elvis wig...
(what? Happens in Vegas all the time!)
Hip shakin' performer by night.
Well, anyhow. Turns out, my dad was king of our castle and not the king of rock-n-roll. And I'm OK with that. I love my dad and I miss him.
Happy Birthday Dad!
...Ummmm...eeerrrr... I mean DAD!!!
Plenty of people think Elvis was gone too soon and too young.
Same is true for you... (still makes me wonder! {wink})
