Sunday was Father’s Day.
In the past, my family has not made a big deal out of Father’s Day or Mother’s Day. Both of my parents have birthdays within a week of their respective holidays so we always celebrated the birthdays and went about our usual Sunday business on the parental holiday. We gave cards, but that was about all. It was never a big deal.
This year, my father mentioned that he would be going to Charlottesville to see his parents. I thought it might be nice if I joined them as well, and we could spend a few hours visiting together.
I went to church as usual that morning, then was a leader in kids church, getting out around 1 o’clock. I then hit the road. And on the way up there I was trying to remember the last time I saw my father on Father’s Day proper. As a kid I would spend summers with him, but would usually get there a day or two after Father’s Day. As an adult I usually tried to see him between his birthday and the holiday, killing two birds with one stone so to speak. And then I remembered the last time I saw my father on Father’s Day.
It was 1983. And it was the day he moved out of the house and left my mom, my brother, and I.
When I got to Charlottesville, we had a lovely time. As usual, the minute I walked into the house, Grandma offered pie. We had our dessert, we watched a combo of the Atlanta/Toronto game, the Red Sox/Yankees game, and the US Open (where Tiger’s comeback was hampered by soggy greens and crooked fairways). Not an exciting visit, but nice. Dad left around 530, and I stayed for another hour or so before hitting the road.
I mentioned to Grandma that I was trying to remember the last time I saw dad on Father’s Day, and what I came up with. She said dad had said the same thing that morning when he got there. Evidently he was excited that we were able to spend some time together that day. (You’d never know it, we’re not the kind of family that talks about this kind of stuff. Serious matters, that is.) But it was a nice visit, good to see my dad and my grandparents, and I was happy to spend a few drama-free hours with them all.
So here’s to both my grandfather and my dad. Happy Father’s Day to you both. I love you.