My Father

He stands 6 feet 2 inches tall, just slightly taller than I am. Even at the age of 60, gray hair is just beginning to encroach on his dirty blonde hair and a receding hairline is only slightly noticeable. He has this blond spot on the back of his head where he was hit in the head with a bottle as a teenager. As a kid I tried endlessly to mess up his hair but my efforts were useless. His hair was and still is in a permanent part to the side with a distinct wave on one side.

His muscle mass has decreased over the years and has been replaced with a slight protruding abdomen, nothing compared to his overweight brothers. Compared to them he is still the lean, muscular stick figure he was 30 years ago.

My father has always had distinct jowls but now that he is older his cheek pads have begun to sink. His eyes are blue and his skin is tight. Only minor wrinkles line his face. He never wore glasses until his 50’s. He now wears round aviator glasses that have left red nose pad imprints on the bridge of his nose.

Once, at a water park when I was just a young boy, I couldn’t find my dad. I wasn’t wearing my glasses and I was seeing nothing but blurred bodies. I walked up to a man and said, “I can’t find my dad.” The man looked around and then pointed, “I think that’s your dad.” Sure enough it was. I guess you could say that I am my father’s son.

If my father were to be a movie star he would have been James Dean. The hair and the build of James Dean match up to the image I have of my father when he was in his 30’s. There was a girl in high school that told me, “Boy, if you look as good as your father does when your 40…” Just imagine James Dean at the age of 60 and you’ve got my dad.