The Papa Bear

It’s odd that I can’t find a picture in my mind of what my foster father looked like.  Every time I try, I see my step-mother’s father whom I adore(d).

I know my foster dad made me laugh.  One of his signature things were his lean overs. He’d be sitting on the couch watching TV and then casually lean over to let go gas. As kids we thought this was absolutely hilarious. I mostly remember watching hockey together and on Sunday nights it was Lassie, Bonanza, Ed Sullivan and Lawrence Welk.

Then there’s the image of him sitting on the toilet while we brushed our teeth and got ready for school.

Him driving the red Dodge Dart which reminds me of the car accident which in turn reminds me of eating tuna salad sandwiches in the car which made me nauseous. Falling asleep in the car on the way to the States and waking up to find him “speeding” down the highway. My sense is he always drove the speed limit when we were awake biding his time ’til we fell asleep.  Weird how our minds jump from one thing to another.

He was a quiet man. I don’t remember him raising his voice or being menacing in any way. He was just a really good person. It makes me feel sad to think about him. I missed him terribly when we left the foster home.

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