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In memory of Bobby Lyle Alexander.

Born Sept. 8, 1930. Died Nov. 28, 2006.

Who was my dad?

It is a question I can’t answer, because, well, I was not him. Who can really say who anyone is, since we all have thoughts and hopes and dreams that are never revealed to anyone else. Even the scribblings in a diarey don’t scratch the surface of the question. How do you quantify the measure of “who we are”, or in this case, “who he was”? When I sat down to write this post, my first impulse was to uligize him by saying something along the lines of “My father was a loving husband to his wife of 48 years, and a wonderful dad to his six children. He was an intelligent, quiet man. He was an electrical engineer, and worked as a computer programmer for IBM in the 60’s, and later, during its construction, worked on the computer programing for the “Air Trans” shuttle system at Dallas Ft Worth Airport. Blah. Blah. Blah. This is just information; dry facts revealing no flavor of the man who was my father. I think the best way for me to describe his impact on my life is to post some of my fondest memories of him, and describe the ways he helped shape my life.

No Title Seems To Fit

My dad passed away last Tuesday. Succumbed to emphysema. My heart is heavy, but I, and the family, are relieved at the same time. His quality of life had been horrible for the last few years, but especially the last one. He knew he would not make it through the holidays and said as much. I got to Washington with time enough to tell him I loved him through a window of consciousness, but also watch the man who was my father suffer through greater pain than I can possibly fathom as his system slowly shut down.

I am composing a post to honor him, but will not have time to finish. Greg and I are heading to San Luis Obisbo this afternoon for his company Christmas party, and since I just got home from Washington last night, there are lots of things to catch up on. Bills, etc.