Remembering My Father on His Birthday

I thought a lot about my father, Edward J. Joel,  yesterday. He would have been 92 years old. The last time I saw him was on my wedding day, 30 years ago. He died the following year at 62.  He seemed so old to me at that time, and I've had people who've looked at my wedding pictures ask if he was my grandfather.  I suppose it was the cigarettes (3 packs of Chesterfields per day), drinking and the stress of his job at the Sheriff's Department in Newark that contributed to his premature aging and death.

Dad on the Vibes with the Joe Gaines Orchestra

I wonder what he would be like now. Would he have kept his sense of humor and his love of big band music and the standards that he and my mother danced to when they were young? He loved babies. Would he have been disappointed that none of us had children? Would he and my mother really have moved to Florida? He had planned to retire soon. They had even bought a piece of land somewhere there, although I think he would have preferred Arizona. He wanted to be warm. He wanted to get away from New Jersey winters.  I wonder if, having moved there, they would have been like the retired people we met on our cross-country bike trip. They moved for the sun and lack of snow as well, but ended up regretting it and spending their summers in RVs at the KOAs and Good Sam's parks near their former homes.

Both of my brothers are now older than my father was when he died. They were  relieved when they passed that milestone, although most of the other men in the family lived to be a good deal older. They are more than 10 years older than I am. I think of this from time to time and wonder what he was like then, before I was around.

Did he still play the drums or the clarinet? While we had a set of drums, and I have a picture of myself playing with them, I don't recall ever hearing him play them.

 I never heard him play the clarinet either. I can remember putting it together and trying to play it when I was a child, but  I could never draw a sound from it no matter how hard I tried.  I do remember him playing the vibes.  When I was in the 7th or 8th grade, he kept them up in my brothers' old room. At the time I was learning to play the violin and we used them to help tune the violin strings.

My musicality, sense of rhythm and love of dancing were gifts from him. Although he has been gone a very long time, I still miss him. It would have been nice to have him around a little longer.