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Dad
My father died on August 10th of this year. He was five days short of his 93rd birthday. He'd been in a really expensive and nice nursing home for about a month before he died, but the dementia was pretty bad. He'd also been 87% deaf for years, which was terribly hard for him - and for all of us. Pneumonia was what killed him.
This might sound strange, but I feel very strongly that he's still with me - not in a supernatural sense, but in that so much of him is in me and Sebastian. His humor and kindness will never leave us. And I hope we inherited some of his intelligence, too.
Dad was born and grew up in Istanbul. His father was a childhood survivor of the Armenian Genocide, as was his mother. I don't remember either of his parents at all; they died when I was very young. His father owned a leather factory in Istanbul, and even when he was very young Dad was able to help him with new techniques for treating the leather. Dad was always absolutely brilliant.
I remember him telling me that his father once stood in a bath of chemicals which were used to make leather waterproof - some sort of industrial chemicals which sealed up the pores. Apparently he thought that standing in it would make his feet stop sweating; it seems that he felt that his feet sweated too much. As I understand it, his feet never sweated again. But that can't have been safe or healthy.
There's so much more to say, but I'm sick (a virus) and need to get some housework done. I'll add to this later.
This might sound strange, but I feel very strongly that he's still with me - not in a supernatural sense, but in that so much of him is in me and Sebastian. His humor and kindness will never leave us. And I hope we inherited some of his intelligence, too.
Dad was born and grew up in Istanbul. His father was a childhood survivor of the Armenian Genocide, as was his mother. I don't remember either of his parents at all; they died when I was very young. His father owned a leather factory in Istanbul, and even when he was very young Dad was able to help him with new techniques for treating the leather. Dad was always absolutely brilliant.
I remember him telling me that his father once stood in a bath of chemicals which were used to make leather waterproof - some sort of industrial chemicals which sealed up the pores. Apparently he thought that standing in it would make his feet stop sweating; it seems that he felt that his feet sweated too much. As I understand it, his feet never sweated again. But that can't have been safe or healthy.
There's so much more to say, but I'm sick (a virus) and need to get some housework done. I'll add to this later.