Fore!!

Father’s Day is rolling around again and it’s sharing the stage with the U.S. Open. This is never great if you’re a golf fan, as any cookout or get together will start up right about the last few holes of the tournament and, almost always, your guests won’t share your interest and you’ll appear to be ignoring them and labeled rude and all that stuff. But, what’cha gonna do? I read a cartoon today that granted a guy three wishes and he said, ‘’I only need one. I wish my father wasn’t dead. I’m going to wish this every day for the rest of my life.” I get that. This whole dying thing….. I wasn’t too fond of my dad growing up. He was strict and always trying to keep me from doing what I wanted to do. After I had my son, I realized a lot of that comes from fear. You’re afraid your children are going to get hurt or, worse case scenario, found in a ditch somewhere, usually after midnight. Apparently, nothing good happens after midnight, your definition of “good” having changed when becoming a parent. My dad was old school and a bit difficult, but a few memories stand out in my mind. I remember when he bought a Morgan. It was British green, which is still my favorite color. My first ride in it was a bit short and ended surrounded by blue lights when my dad wanted to see how fast it would go, an endeavor frowned upon by the cops. We were close to home so I got out and walked, never being one to go down with the ship and all that. At just 58, my dad had a stroke. He had trouble walking after that and lost the use of his right arm. Once when my mom was sick, he made coffee in a thermos and devised a cord to carry it around his neck and somehow made it up the stairs to take it to her. I loved that. And, I remember when he walked me down the aisle he kept saying, “Now, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, you can always come back home.” Lol! When you lose your father, you lose the one man who would take anyone out of this world for you. Yep. I saw him cry only a few times in his life and it stopped me in my tracks: when my final biopsy was negative, when my son was born, and when his mother died. Mostly, though, I like to remember him laughing. His last Father’s Day, my mother called to tell me he drank the whole bottle of Blue Gin I gave him, fell down in the shower and had to call my brother to come help. I could hear him laughing in the background and I had to join in. My mom was so put out with us. He laughed a lot. Remember the laughter and let the rest go. Yep. Here’s hoping all of you have a good Father’s Day and if you’re a golf fan, well, just keep disappearing and hope no one notices you’re missing.

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Just Say No

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I’m Gonna Sit Right Down and Write Myself a Letter