Remembering My Dad, Paul Bixby

Today would have been my Dad’s 108th birthday. He passed away in 2012, just a week shy of his 99th birthday. He grew up on a farm in Minnesota, the oldest with 4 younger sisters. He always yearned to see the world. As a child, he thought being a “diplomat” would be the most exciting career. As a lifetime educator, his yearning led him to opportunities to explore the world. He married my Mother in 1935 and headed off to college in St. Cloud, Minnesota.

From there he continued his education in New York at Columbia University. By the time I was born (1946) he was ready to continue his career in Higher Education at Penn State University.

About 1949.
About 1952.

We spent 1955-56 in the Philippines, while Dad taught at the University of the Philippines. He was enjoying the challenges of international travel and education, while Jean, Mark and I experienced normal life appropriate to our age levels. Jean had just graduated from high school and was learning about native Philippine music and dance; Mark was a sophomore in high school and experiencing high school life in another culture; I was in 4th grade and trying to figure out how to fit in in elementary school. Mom was just trying to hold us all together! We each had our challenges!

About 1956.

Here is a picture of my Dad in 1968 when Bert and I got married (or should I say, celebrated our wedding…ha ha…that had happened in 1967, when we eloped but didn’t tell anyone!). That’s another story!

In 1968.

Here is Dad around 2000. He was definitely in “elder statesman” mode and enjoyed living in Foxdale after Mom died. He served on many committees and was acclaimed as a great listener. He stayed actively involved in the development of Foxdale as a mature, continuing care facility.

In 2000.

And finally, as a father of three, grandfather of nine, great grandfather of 17 and great-great grandfather of 4, everyone loved to come visit him, to pick his brain for great stories or share their own life adventures.

After he passed, I was reminded that he wasn’t just my Dad…many people saw him as a “father figure” or as a kindly, interested “grandfather figure.” Each year, this close to Christmas, he’s never far from my thoughts.

If you have a treasured memory you’d like to share, leave a comment or email me directly at marykisner@comcast.net. Thanks.

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