Dad minute…

thought of dad tonight.  sitting on the grass, all my grandchildren in one place, all my kids there….all of us watching Ryan play T ball….all of 5 years old and has an entourage…

but I thought of dad.  how many games, practices, matches and performances did he sit through.  Carrying flowers or snacks, peppermints in his pocket, trying to figure out how to work his camera….happy as can be, hat cocked to one side on his head, watching his grandchild do whatever it was one of my kids was doing at the moment.  Thanks dad.  You werent perfect, but you gave me such quiet guidance in the things grandparents need to do to make their kids, and grandkids, feel special.


Soft edges….

Friday night had a soft edge.  Freed from babysitting we jumped at the chance to sit on a deck at a local pub and nosh on crab dip while throwing back a shot or two of tequila.  The air was sweet with Spring and we watched the sun go down. Our need for sweets took over on the way home and we stopped at an ice cream place, one of the ones where you stand at the window and order.

Standing behind the young dad with the coupon and the 50-something lady with a need for butter pecan, we waited,snuggling a little.  A group approached, 6 or 7, obviously siblings or cousins, related — sharing that banter that only people who love each other very much, who have shared thousands of moments –can.  As they pointed at the sign that says “free ice cream if you’re shorter than this” I had to laugh, and get in the conversation.  The one trying to be “shorter than this” was at least 6’8″ , and I felt the need to tell her that “we could fold you in half and you wouldnt be “shorter than” that.  A great conversation ensued, she was from Atlanta — where they didnt have WaWa, but do have waffle house ( waffle waffle waffle house…), Bobby is her brother, she is staying with him, the little sister ( probably pushing 40 ) was “not like dad, we’re all tall, all 6 of us, but her, shes short”.  More conversation about the sign, and how “little sister” could probably make herself free ice cream sized with  a bit of effort.  Then, I had to ask — “what brings you here to our town?”

The laughing eyes sighed, the smile weakened.  “Our dad, our father passed on Monday, we’re having his services tomorrow, Im going home in a couple days”.  And, as I said I was sorry, as I looked each one of them in the eye and told them I felt their loss, that I had lost my dad 4 years earlier, I felt the edge, soft as it was.  They were a bunch of brothers and sisters, sharing ice cream and laughter, probably as they had done with their dad many times.  They were sad, but they were together, and I couldnt help but feel blessed that I got to see that — the way they returned to familiar things, missing dad.


Lost my dad 4 years ago today.  4 years.  Not a day goes by where I dont think of him, or something  i want to tell him, or show him, or ask his advice about.

But what is giving me pause tonight is the realization that I didnt remember this was the anniversary of his death until 8 pm this evening.  Sitting on the couch, it hit me, It’s April 7.

No way I should ever be too busy or stressed or self involved to miss the anniversary of my father’s death.  No way I should spend the day involved in a hundred other issues and not take the time to go to his grave.

Im sorry dad.  Sorry that i get self involved.

Time to rethink me a bit.  Or  a lot.  I pride myself on realizing what is important in life, in putting my family first, in praising God, in working a life of service.  But, at what cost.  Time to center ….