We are the story tellers of our lives
My Dad was stationed in Chicago the last time that the Cubs were in the world series in 1945.
My Dad was a great storyteller and he delighted in sharing stories about his life.
One of the stories I heard him tell many times was when he was serving as a clerk in the Navy. My Dad was a two fingered typist, but he could type Great Lakes Naval Station as if he was an accomplished stenographer.
His commanding officer would watch him type those words with a flourish and then ask him dubiously “are you sure you are a typist?”.
I know he would have really enjoyed seeing the Cubs in the series and would have loved telling people his story about his time in the Navy seventy years ago.
We are all the story tellers of our own lives. My Dad has Alzheimer’s during the last years of his life and he still loved to talk about his life and keep the memories that he had alive. Miss you Dad.