He’s 86. He used to be half an inch taller than me. Now I’m a couple of inches taller than him. He used to be stronger than me. Then, while I was studying martial arts, I was stronger than him. (He didn’t like that; in this way, we’re similar.) Now, eh, given age and the vagaries of MS we’re probably about the same.
This photo was taken in the Canal Gardens at Roundhay Park a couple of weeks ago. I’m horribly jet-lagged but very pleased to be with my father again so soon after my February visit.
As Kelley said when she looked at the photo she’d taken, “Whoa, look at that genetic stamp!” I think we get more alike every year. I haven’t yet worked out how much I owe to my father, probably more than I realise. But I’ll be thinking about that now.