March 13...
...is a day I always remember because...
My dad died in 1970, on March 13. It was actually Friday the 13th.
The people who called my mother to tell her he had died told her she was lucky he had ID on him. Otherwise, he would have been John Doe #WhoKnowsWhat in the City Morgue. I was 18.
He was an alcoholic who dropped dead in the Bowery at age 43, leaving behind 4 children. One loved him. One dismissed him. One hated him. One didn't get the chance to know him.
Just thought I'd mention it--alcoholism is such a horrible disease, but I wanted to pay homage to the man.
Amazing that it is 32 years later, and he was not much of a dad, but I look at the date and remember what it means to me.
ETA: I meant to post this in the ACOA forum.... this is not helpful to the F&F forum, so I apologize...