January 30, 1982.

Dad died today. It was the usual thing: shoveling, coming inside, not feeling well, the rush to the hospital. But a massive myocardial infarction had stopped that big heart, at the age of 56.

So many of the handicapper dads that we knew died in their fifties. Probably it was just a coincidence: that, and the fact that most of them did smoke. But we knew more handicapper Moms than Dads. The Dads tended to split rather than face a "different" reality.

My dad was a true family man. And the sweetest memory of that sad time was little Eva putting her boots on her hands and walking around among all the grown-ups saying..."be funny"

Yay Meryl! She has passed the $3000 mark. What a woman! Be sure to check her out.