My best to you an your family. Hang in there, brother.

Sounds like he had a long struggle. Saying good bye is always tough.
Carry on my friend.

in a couple of weeks, give or take, the evening blues is going to migrate here as its home base and discontinue publishing the full version at daily kos. i think that it's about time for it and my attention to move on from daily kos.

jtc and i have been discussing the form that eb will take here, so if anybody has some ideas about that, please feel free to pipe up.

though your Father's passing released him from much pain and suffering. And, for that, I imagine that you and your Family are most grateful.

I must say, losing my Father was a profound emotional shock. He 'could do no wrong,' in my eyes. I would venture to say that if you looked up "Daddy's Girl" in the dictionary, my ol' mug would be there. The way that I dealt with his passing, was to be grateful that I had him that long. (He passed away in his mid-70's, when I was 27. He easily could have keeled over of a heart attack while I was much younger. So, in one sense, I was very fortunate.)

In memory of your Dad,

“I believe that what we become depends on what our fathers teach us at odd moments, when they aren't trying to teach us. We are formed by little scraps of wisdom.” ― Umberto Eco, Foucault's Pendulum

Anyway, our thoughts will be with you and yours, in the coming weeks. Hope you take good care of yourself.

Mollie

his nation failed your father twice: first by ruining him psychically in sending him to war, then by ruining him physically with asbestosis. But he didn't fail, or you would not be the good person that you are.

Be well, JtC.

he deserves it so much after all the memories he kept to himself, which is a huge burden, I believe, and after being punished twice, with the disability and the asbestos. Luckily he was blessed with a good family and loving son. Keep your head up and go on. It's a new beginning after all.

Though on the "other side" (with the evil doers so to speak), my father very rarely talked about his war WWII experiences, but we knew enough from him through his almost nightly nightmares from which he awoke shouting loudly and being in full sweat. We knew about how and when he lost his arms and how he was confronted with his own graveyard and amputation without anethesia. He never could finish the story without starting to cry and we never asked him to tell us again. He also wrote a sort of longer diary after returning from POW camp in Russia about what he remembered. I have that and it reads like an essay about being hungry, and about how the medical care for the wounded POW were at various stations on his route between Frankfort and Moscow, who betrayed whom, who was humane and who was not and how much of it was luck or bad luck. Nothing seemed to make any sense he went through.

All of my father's generations family, who were in WWII really didn't talk. If you read a lot of biographical material of German military in WWII (including SS and Uber Nazis) they rarely revealed what they actually saw and did and many denied any wrong doing til the end of their lives.

My son who went through the Iraq invasion also didn't tell me much. I have an idea what was one aspect he struggled with, but he never detailed it.

It's good to be able to forget to the extent one is capable of it. It's humane to forget. Even though it would be so good to have their memories archived for others to read, I believe one has to respect their silence.

Take care.