My father died almost thirty-six years ago at age 66. He left an enormous gap in my life. Men of that era did not talk about feelings or history. I knew only snippets of his childhood, early relationship with my mother and military service. I will be getting together with my siblings in November. It will be a good time to share stories.
After he died, I naturally went through his things. There I discovered some of his letters to my mother sent from his Fort Knox, Ky. military station. He was twenty-five years old.
Imagine my surprise discovering his overt desire tucked into stories of demotions for not having his shoes tied properly and success on the rifle range.
Raising five children left little time for public displays of affection. It’s wonderful to know in their early relationships they were playful and hot for each other.
Finding these letters among his things was such a joy. He always loved my mother which was a wonderful gift to his children. Happy Father’s Day Daddy. I miss you a lot.
DOS TORTAS
the adventures of dos tortas 
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