Today is the birthday of my father, William P. Kenny, Sr. Had he lived, he would be 100 years old. He, of course, did not live to see this day. Did not even come close in fact. Missed it by almost forty-three years.
On my next birthday, I will be the age my father was when he marked his final birthday, which he did on this very day in 1980. Six-and-one-half months later he was dead.
He and I had an absurdly difficult relationship during what proved to be the final year of his life. He was hard on me and I, in turn, was hard on him. Truth be told, I have been hard on him for the overwhelming majority of the past almost forty-three years. While I do not write in this space too often, it was here on this very date three years ago where I wrote him the apology it took me forty years to muster up the spine to write.
Happy Birthday, Dad.
WPK, Sr. - The Browning School
circa 1964
-AK
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