Dad's chair was not as elegant as Archie Bunker's, but we knew the chair was his alone to sit in front of the TV. It was not forbidden to sit in the chair; it was just recognized that it was his and his alone. The only other being to occupy the chair was our dog, Skootch.

Across the street, he was king of the bar with a regular booth where he was given the unlikely name of "The Dragon" by the local regulars. He was far from being rough; in fact, while he was a large man, he had soft features to match his gentle heart. Why they gave him this name, I can only guess. Since he was the oldest of the regulars, it was their way of giving him the respect they felt he was due. I know he enjoyed the status and the name.

Admittedly, this was Dad's social life, either at the bar or watching sports and drinking beer in front of the TV.

Without his social life in gear, Dad would become melancholy over missing my mother; even 10,20, and 30 years after her passing, It could be a song heard on the radio or one with his decent singing voice he would sing or hum.

He had a playlist of songs to deepen his depression, and the beer undoubtedly contributed to his mood.
If he heard "Blue Velvet," he would remember:
"The first time I saw her, she wore a blue dress."

The "Tennessee Waltz," "Stardust," "If I ever needed you," and "Goodnight Irene" were on the playlist to remind him of lost love.
But this one chorus from this one Eddie Fisher song stung him the most, and it was the one he would sing more often:
"My heart cries for you
Sighs for you dies for you
And my arms long for you
Please come back to me."

He would start singing the song with tears streaming down his face. Watching him break down was hard, knowing I could not console or take away his pain.

While "My heart cries for you" was his favorite song, it only brought him more sorrow and grief.

Even today, if an old-time radio show plays one of these old tunes, I think of that old Eddie Fisher chorus and how lost and heartbroken Dad was. I then relive dad's grief.