I don’t know much about my dad. He likes the color yellow and enjoys fish. I hope to know as much as Marcus Aurelius did about his father. My writing is the tool by which I carve out powerful, personal history. Photography, my pictures add color to the sculpture. The context in which I present it, breathes life into it.
My father might even be an Avenger. Marvel released the team the year he was born.
He might as well be a messenger- one of great significance, at that. The world found itself in a great tumult that year.
Pope John XXIII would address “all men of good will” in a paper that previously made it in front of Roman Catholic eyes only.
MLK wrote from jail that year and would go on to deliver a speech about his dreams, to the then largest public protest in history.
That year many men lived, spoke, and died for what they believed. The year my father was born, to say a lot happened, would be the grossest understatement.
As an homage to Emmanuel, those people of higher commitment, I celebrate with these words.
In my father I observed mildness of temper, and unchangeable resolution in the things which he had determined after due deliberation; and no vainglory in those things which men call honours; and a love of labour and perseverance; and a readiness to listen to those who had anything to propose for the common weal...
The Meditations, Marcus Aurelius
Happy Birthday, Dad.
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