Father’s Day

Sunday was the most unusual Father’s Day in my memory.  It began innocently enough – I took Mom to church with me and then came back to their condo to play cribbage with Dad (just like I do most Sundays when we’re all in town).  Afterward, I did my usual Sunday grocery shopping.  Took them home, put them away, and that was it – or so I thought.  Ryan was going with Emily to visit her dad in Kentucky, and my family wasn’t getting together because Blake’s bunch was headed back home from Tennessee – so we planned to compare schedules and get together later in the week on an evening when all three boys and two fiancees were available.  Since it was raining, the rest of my day was going to consist of dishes, laundry, and watching the U.S. Open golf tournament on TV – and I was looking forward to it.

Then my phone buzzed.

It was Ryan – he and Emily were on the way to our house.  Their plans had changed and they decided to hang out here for the afternoon.

Then my phone buzzed again.

It was Blake’s wife Lisa, texting from the passenger seat northbound on I-75 to compare schedules.  About a dozen texts later, we determined that there was no evening during the week when everyone was available.  I was about to send a text of surrender – I had already given Dad his card and gift (a keyboard for his new Smart TV) anyway – when Lisa beat me to the text and said “How about 5:00 today?”

It was already 3:00 and I thought they were nuts since they had just arrived at home, but everyone was available.  So I dropped everything and went into Homemade Ice Cream Mode – I had all of the fixings and what I thought was just enough time to get it done.  Silly me – it wasn’t done at 4:45 so I unplugged it and headed to Blake’s, where I plugged it in again.  It still never hardened sufficiently, so we put it in the freezer for about half an hour and eventually served Brownies and Slush.

Lisa always has her camera handy, and wanted to take some Father’s Day pictures.

Mom and Dad both like to read their cards out loud . . .

Somehow, all of the ladies begged their way out of these shots.  And I noticed that it appears I have been promoted to the Senior Citizens’ Couch.  I have already heard all of the cracks about my hands on my knees – I plead inexperience.

Earlier in the afternoon, I received this card from my son Ryan, who has learned at least two things in 25 years -- 1) it is a good idea to bring your dad to tears once a year with a card that says you "get it"; 2) if the sentiment is correct, it is acceptable to edit the card to the proper occasion. And thanks to his fiancee Emily, who no doubt taught him both things.

By the end of the day, the dishes and laundry were still undone, and I saw very little of the U.S. Open – and I happily traded it all for the Father’s Day we had.  There were lots of posts on my Facebook feed from friends who wished they could spend one more Father’s Day with their dads – I treasure the fact that I still can.