Almost Father’s Day

On Friday, a friend asked me what we were going to do on Sunday, for Father’s Day.

“No, that’s next week.” I said

“No”, she said, “Sunday, the day after tomorrow.”

Oh.  I thought I had a week.  Maybe, subconsciously, I did that on purpose.  I love, don’t love, Father’s Day.

My kids have the BEST Daddy. Tomorrow, they will give him homemade cards, they will help me make special meals.  It will be the perfect day.

There will be fart jokes.  I will roll my eyes.   The three of them will giggle.

But at some point, on Father’s Day, I will look at my husband, our eyes will meet, both of us will fight tears.  We’ll take a deep breath, and we will carry on. Because that’s what you do.

What we both want to do is call our Dads.

I would say “Hello”, and he would say “Hey, chickey!”.  I would say “You know your grandson is EXACTLY like you!”.  The projects, the pranks, all of it.  He would get a knowing, and slightly devious chuckle;  And then I would say (accusingly, because he is named after you!), “So now what do I do?!”.

Every time our oldest builds something, takes something apart and makes it run again, or I trip over tools and engine parts in his bedroom, and yet I still can’t get him to study;  I want to call my Dad and say, “So, this is YOU, how should I handle this?!?”.

He would laugh again.  He would love every minute of this.

I want to tell him that his grand daughter is exactly like another little girl he used to know.  Her room is covered in horse posters.  She doesn’t get why we can’t have a horse in the backyard.  She wants to catch the wild bunnies in the woods (they’d be the perfect pets).  She doesn’t understand why kids are mean on the bus, but she will gladly step in and give them her opinion, and then she will come home in tears because they just won’t pay attention!  He would listen, I would hear him smile, and he would tell me “OH, she is going to be just fine!” And everything would be okay.

The little things would be in perspective. I want to hear that voice.  To feel that hug.  To make that call.

Make that call.  Talk.  Say “let’s go do something”.

Have a cup of coffee, have a beer, have a soda. Go for a bike ride, go flying, go camping, go fishing, take a drive.  Sit on the deck, get on a boat, on a motorcycle, in a canoe.  Call him.

Look at the stars, the rain, the sun, the mountains.  Have a glass of wine at the museum, a beer at the lake, a cup of coffee on the porch.

Shake your head at “those” comments and “those” jokes, and respect the way he wants to save the world.  There is wisdom in there, look and see that his heart would reach out to anyone.

Share stuff.  It doesn’t matter what stuff.

If only the world was made up of Dads just like our Dads.







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