I was 30 years old at the time. I was visiting my folks from Kodiak which is where I was living at the time.
I'd been with my family a couple of days and told Dad I wanted a ride int Quincy with him the following morning so I could go into Boston on the subway.
I showered and went to bed, laying my clothes out for the morning.
The next morning he woke me and said he was running late and maybe we could do it tomorrow. "No, I'm good," I replied.
I jumped out of bed and my dad watched me hop into a pair of 501 Levis. The T-shirt was inside out so I put my hands in the outside of the sleeves and then through the bottom and pulled it on. It was now right side out like it was supposed to be. Then I stepped into a pair of Topsiders. I went straight into the bathroom, loaded my toothbrush and while I was brushing my teeth I peed. I spit the toothpaste into the toilet, flushed it and walked out buttoning my fly. "Let's go." The whole process had taken maybe a minute. Dad watched the entire process curiously.
We went downstairs, filled a couple of cups with coffee and were out the door. We drove in silence for a few minutes before Dad broke it. He looked at me curiously.
"You get up like that every morning," he said. "You get into a pair of jeans, a T-shirt go out the door and conduct your life. If you have work to do, you work. If you don't, you go fishing. You don't have much money simply because you don't need much money. If you do you find a job and make it."
"That's pretty much it," I replied.
He shook his head. "I'm pretty proud of the way you turned out," he said. "You got the world by the ass Well, I don't have to worry about you anymore."
As he drove I saw his face had a pretty satisfied smile on it. A few minutes later he turned to me. "You're entering middle age now, Kid. Watch your weight."
I got out at his shop and walked to the T and did what I had to do in Boston. I later returned to the shop, hung out a while and we drove home.
A few days later he dropped me off at Logan and it was the last time I ever saw him.
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Logan International Airport, Boston, MA. About a week later.
Dad walked me to the gate. (you could do that back then)
It was time for me to board. This time Dad didn't give one of his usual parting comments like "See you later" or "Keep hittin' em, Kid." . Instead he saaid, "Goodbye, Son". At that instant I knew I'd never see him again.
"Goodbye, Dad." I said. With that I boarded the airplane for the long ride back to Alaska.
It was a quiet ride back to Kodiak as I sat there in my thoughts.
I was at sea fishing the following spring when the skipper told me that he had gotten a message from me.
Alaska it the only state that permits personal messages to be sent on commercial radio stations to enable people in remote areas to stay in touch with their people. The skipper said that he'd gotten word that there had been a 'Crabber' from KMXT telling me to call home.
I got a radio patch via the Marine Operator and found out my father was gone. Mom told me to come later when I could spend some time at home.
I quietly turned to back on deck. Dad would have expected nothing less.
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