For the men here, how old were you when your father died?

calmloki said:
Dad just made it to 49, I was 20. His family moved from Wyoming to Philadelphia and Mom got starry eyed over a tall (her fantasy) cowboy. He was a machinist, essential job, got into the Navy late in the war and was in California in electronics school with his new wife as the war ended. They took a surplus heavy truck to Alaska and homesteaded - I was first baby born in the new hospital in Valdez; sister was born at home in the house they built three years later. Moved to Oregon, Dad opened a machine shop, they worked hard, sold everything and took a VW bus trip with clamshell trailer (and 6 month old brother) around the States and Canada with a little air hop to Cuba (1959), then down through Central America.

Sold the Bus and Camper and took a tramp freighter through the canal back to Oregon. Dad started fresh, and by working back to back machinist jobs started clawing his way up through property. They wanted to raise their kids in the country on a cattle ranch. The houses were kind of habitable if Dad made them so in his spare time after the two jobs and stringing fence and caring for the cows. The places grew from 20 acres up to 140.

Then he was diagnosed with lymphoma, so he had to kick it into OD. Started another machine shop with a partner and had day and night shifts working.

I remember him when he was home, building a cattle squeeze with his welder with a burned out roll yer own stuck on his lower lip asking what I had done that day - he did NOT like to see me with my hands in my pockets.

Remember gathering some steers and getting them on a truck on a school morning - thought sure I'd be skipping, but no. He said school - and I should drive - his 1957 356 Porsche. Remember him sitting with his hands in his lap as I was losing it on a gravel corner. Remember the hint of smile as he said to drive it out after we came to a stop with the back end in a ditch, me shaking.

Another time remember him putting an arm on my shoulder and saying "You are my son". Demonstrative he was not, but a few words or moments carried a bunch of value for me. Lucky guy I am
Click to expand...
Boy you sure are a lucky guy!
 
My father passed at the age of 71, two days after I turned 48.

He was an amazing man that is greatly missed by everyone who knew him. There's not a day that goes by that I don't think of him and miss him immensely. He taught me empathy, understanding, caring and a general overall love for everyone. He knew not a stranger and would talk to anyone who'd lend him their ear. Always jovial and in a good mood. He set a very high bar for how to interact with and be loved by others. If I'm half as successful in that regard I would be ecstatic.

He was in construction/carpentry his entire life. Worked some jobs where the risks were not known at the time (asbestos, toxins in weed killer, etc). Both his parents and his three siblings preceded him in death, none making it past the age of 65. A lifetime two pack a day smoker, he stopped cold turkey when my grandfather passed of lung cancer. After he retired he would get non-hodgekins lymphoma and endure chemo. Then when that was behind him, he got covid and it wreaked havoc on his heart, causing it to lose much of it's strength. A few years later, he later suffered a series of strokes that he would not recover from.

It was July 4th weekend 2022, and he had his first stroke. Met him at the hospital and he was able to speak, was doing the exercises the nurses requested. Sometime overnight early the next morning suffered another stroke that he would not recover from. No longer able to speak, etc. It was a living hell watching him deteriorate, knowing he was there mentally, could hear us, but not communicate. We had the unbearable decision to take him to hospice and live out his remaining few days. I spent 24 hours bedside with him refusing to accept the fact.
And to answer the question on whether he was a great father or not, he and I were so close he was the best man at my wedding.
 
I was 64, Dad was 96.
 
My father got sick when I was 14. He died when I was 15.
He was 49.
Non Hodgkins lymphoma.
 
He is still with us but there's a good chance he'll pass when i'm 46. He would be 76 or barely 77 which is longer than his VA doctors expected. His Father passed at 76 as well. I don't have any reason to expect to live longer than them so I won't be planning for 95+ like many people on here do.
 
Blessed as my father left at age 99 when I was 65. He was disease free his entire life, had natural 6-pack abs and never worked out, did not drink or smoke and was never overweight. A genetic freak. His body ran out of gas and died peacefully of "natural causes" and was the perfect example of a life well lived. Official cause of death was heart failure.
 
I was 52, he was 77. Died of Alzheimers. Korean war vet via the GI Bill became a professor of German history. Unfortunately he and my mother divorced when I was 7 so wasn’t really raised by him. Was a fluid athlete and was an assistant university skiing coach and played noon time basketball with the university students into his early 60’s. Unfortunately the last couple of years of his life were brutal with the mental decline.
 
I was 57 and my Dad was 89. Occurred in October, 2022. He was very healthy, but got stage 4 Melanoma and he went quick. It still hurts. He was a great Dad and a better Husband. I am one of 8 kids, and I grew up with very little money. He was a simple Man and a good Man.
 
Great thread and I appreciate the personal sharing. It's not what happens to us, but how we react to it.

My parents passed early with sad lives (Mom 38, Dad 54 - a month before grandchild). That was compounded by losing my first wife very early (23 - cancer sucks). But their pain and loss led me to be very appreciative every day. I was the best father I could be and my girls have done better than me. Now they tell me how happy they are that I'm a part of their children's lives. :cry::cry:
 
My dad died at age 85 when I was 48. Mom died two years later at also age 85.

Dad was WWII vet (Pacific). He was waiting as part of the invasion force when Japan surrendered, so instead he did a few months of the occupation. He was a great father, always available and willing to listen. Was blue collar, and labored 35 years in a chemical factory. That was hard on his body, and made his final five years more challenging. But a sharp mind to the end. Glad he was able to meet all 8 of his grandchildren.
 
calmloki said:
Dad just made it to 49, I was 20. His family moved from Wyoming to Philadelphia and Mom got starry eyed over a tall (her fantasy) cowboy. He was a machinist, essential job, got into the Navy late in the war and was in California in electronics school with his new wife as the war ended. They took a surplus heavy truck to Alaska and homesteaded - I was first baby born in the new hospital in Valdez; sister was born at home in the house they built three years later. Moved to Oregon, Dad opened a machine shop, they worked hard, sold everything and took a VW bus trip with clamshell trailer (and 6 month old brother) around the States and Canada with a little air hop to Cuba (1959), then down through Central America.

Sold the Bus and Camper and took a tramp freighter through the canal back to Oregon. Dad started fresh, and by working back to back machinist jobs started clawing his way up through property. They wanted to raise their kids in the country on a cattle ranch. The houses were kind of habitable if Dad made them so in his spare time after the two jobs and stringing fence and caring for the cows. The places grew from 20 acres up to 140.

Then he was diagnosed with lymphoma, so he had to kick it into OD. Started another machine shop with a partner and had day and night shifts working.

I remember him when he was home, building a cattle squeeze with his welder with a burned out roll yer own stuck on his lower lip asking what I had done that day - he did NOT like to see me with my hands in my pockets.

Remember gathering some steers and getting them on a truck on a school morning - thought sure I'd be skipping, but no. He said school - and I should drive - his 1957 356 Porsche. Remember him sitting with his hands in his lap as I was losing it on a gravel corner. Remember the hint of smile as he said to drive it out after we came to a stop with the back end in a ditch, me shaking.

Another time remember him putting an arm on my shoulder and saying "You are my son". Demonstrative he was not, but a few words or moments carried a bunch of value for me. Lucky guy I am
Click to expand...
Very interesting story. You had a strong present in your life.
 
57/88 had prostate surgery in 70's and cancer returned in his 80's. First bone cancer (couldn't stand or sit up) and then went to his brain. He remarried at 82 and had 5 good years. He is my WWll hero.
 
My dad was a self absorbed, boring, SOB. His main focus was, not working, drinking and smoking pretty much in that order. He died when I was 44 he was 75. He never met my kids. Can’t believe he lived that long.
Step dad was a great guy but he drank a lot and chased stray women a lot. Still I loved him and he loved me. He was 85 when he passed, I was 61.
 
Dad 85. Me 61. He was a good man who always tried to do the right thing. Honestly, he had no clue that you could do things any other way. No real health issues until dementia settled in soon after my mom's death-also from dementia. He was truly broken after she passed. Fortunately I retired around this time and was able to spend time with him despite being on the opposite coast. I soon moved him to assisted living near me and finally to memory care.

He joined the Navy as a Seabee (CB-construction battalion) and was stationed in Okinawa where he met and married my mom. Was then transferred to Guam where I was born. Hence my handle-Guamaniac. 23 years later he retired as a Data Processor Senior Chief in San Diego. Hardly ever spent any time on a ship in those 23 years. Joined Civil Service and mostly sold computers to gov't and military agencies. Went back to school in his 40's and earned a B.S. degree in business.

Though I was able to spend time with him those last few years I try to remember him in his prime. We had no immediate family in San Diego. He seemed to be most alive and energetic when he was visiting his three siblings in Tacoma. I never saw him laugh so much as when they got together.
 
Guamaniac said:
Dad 85. Me 61. He was a good man who always tried to do the right thing. Honestly, he had no clue that you could do things any other way. No real health issues until dementia settled in soon after my mom's death-also from dementia. He was truly broken after she passed. Fortunately I retired around this time and was able to spend time with him despite being on the opposite coast. I soon moved him to assisted living near me and finally to memory care.

He joined the Navy as a Seabee (CB-construction battalion) and was stationed in Okinawa where he met and married my mom. Was then transferred to Guam where I was born. Hence my handle-Guamaniac. 23 years later he retired as a Data Processor Senior Chief in San Diego. Hardly ever spent any time on a ship in those 23 years. Joined Civil Service and mostly sold computers to gov't and military agencies. Went back to school in his 40's and earned a B.S. degree in business.

Though I was able to spend time with him those last few years I try to remember him in his prime. We had no immediate family in San Diego. He seemed to be most alive and energetic when he was visiting his three siblings in Tacoma. I never saw him laugh so much as when they got together.
Click to expand...
Hey - I was born on Guam as well. Mom and Dad were teachers there for a couple of years and I was the tropical surprise.
 
I don't exactly remember but it was before COVID started, likely 2018. He was 82 and I was 56. He didn't suffer much, a short illness.
 
I was 47 and dad died at 74 I was 43 and Mom 68. My dad was your average factory worker working 40+ years at one facility but under 3 different names. He finished his career as a Maintenance Tech, and he taught me that if you want something you have to work hard at it and never give up. Also to treat every individual you meet thru your lifetime to treat them like you want to be treated. My parents were both big supporters thru all my sports I played and never missing any Basketball or Baseball game I played in my dad also coached me thru little league and taught me if you want to stand out practice, practice & practice more if you want to be good at what you do and just not average and it all paid out. My dad was a smoker which he learned from serving our country in the Navy and never quit but what his down fall was losing my mother quit unexpectedly as he would never date another woman as he told my mother if she would die before him he would never get with another woman so every year that went by my dad got lonelier lonelier and he kept letting himself go by not eating, exercising, or quitting smoking, actually I think he started smoking more. He was a great dad and missed a lot and I had good childhood also I'd take him as a dad again. I just wish he would have known more about financing as ive learned all this saving to retire early on my own.
 
I was about 60 when dad died at 89. The last couple of years he was in a nursing home when he finally wore out. He was an honest and kind man and fiercely loyal to mom and our small family. Home was always our safe place. I was amazed that he was able to live as long after he had spent almost 2 years in Stalag Luft 3 during WWII that affected his health like so many other POWs. When I was younger he may have wondered how closely I listened to his advice but later he realized that was paying attention. Forever in his debt.
 
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