Elvis and My Dad

On Tuesday afternoon, August 16, 1977, I was walking down the street with my portable transistor radio listening to the latest disco music. Then all of a sudden, the newscaster broke through and announced that Elvis Presley had died. I can still clearly remember having an overwhelming feeling of sadness. I couldn’t believe that the King of Rock and Roll was dead at 42, leaving behind a young daughter. Little did I know then that from that day forward Elvis and my dad would be connected.

Exactly one week later (almost to the minute), on Tuesday afternoon, August 23, 1977, as I returned home from a carefree afternoon of shopping in downtown Boston, my dad was killed in a car accident. 

Sure, Elvis and my dad were as far as the East is from the West, but they both had more than a few of things in common: they both joined the Army and served their country, were incredibly generous men, each fought addictions, and they both died way too young, leaving behind young daughters.  

The trajectory of my life changed that day. Here we are 46 years later, and it remains a time I vividly remember.

Grief and loss follow us through life. As we grow older and time passes by, the sharpness of the grief may ease but the memories still remain. As we move forward, it helps when we choose to do so with positivity and hope. We take our loved ones with us wherever we go.

We can never truly lose the people we deeply love. They live on in our hearts and minds forever. When we are grieving, each day may bring with it some sort of battle, but one day we will learn to accept and live our best life for them.

Yes, there are certain times in life we never forget. Continue reading here: Times In Life We Never Forget.  

Published by pat

Mom. Wife. Honey. Jesus-Girl. Love to travel, cook, make beautiful things grow and spend time with family & friends.

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