My dad did what he could to get by,
saying times would be better when
his ship came in.
Mom prayed daily to Mother of
Perpetual Help asking her to inter-
cede for her with Jesus her son.
With that in mind, although the
two were always at odds with one
another, they did the best they could
for my two brothers and me.
We each took their best and worst
intentions to heart. Needless to say
having interpreted mom and dad’s
offerings in our own way, we turned
out very differently.
Mom died at age 59, hopefully
with her prayers fulfilled, though
in many ways it didn’t appear to
be so.
Dad lived to be 89 years old still
standing on the pier waiting for
that illusive ship of glory to arrive.
And my brothers and I long ago
went our different ways. It’s not
up to me to say which one of us
ever achieved success to our
satisfaction in life.
We each took our chances and
played life’s game in our own
way.
I speak only for myself when I
say, holding two pair (treys over
deuces) were likely not enough
to win the hand, but it was good
enough at age 76 to keep me
in the game. A few years back
at 70, Brother Dave cashed in
his chips. Brother Mark now
77 has managed successfully
to bluff his way through.
I can’t count how many times
in my life people who have
known my brothers and me
have commented, you three
don’t look or act anything
alike. Did you come from
from the same mother and
father, they’ll ask?
Lifting up the edge of the my
cards to take a peek at my
hand again, I just shrug my
shoulders. And sometimes it
gives even me pause to wonder.
-30-
Chris Hanch 4-10-2023
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