Tonight, we will celebrate Father’s Day. It worked out for everyone to meet up this evening instead of Sunday, and that was fine with Steve. That’s my husband—easy-going but never a pushover. We’ll enjoy a meal, talk until late, then head north (us) and south (them) for home. We can hardly wait to be together. There aren’t enough days in a week or weeks in a month to see our kids and grandkids as often as we want. Thankfully, we love each other and being together. Life is busy, though, so the days in between are too many.
Like Steve, my dad was easy-going. Fun-loving and creative, he taught us all kinds of games and activities. He even made up games and would play them with us and the neighbor kids. I really don’t know how my folks made ends meet with eight children, but I don’t remember going without anything I needed. Dad’s work as a floor refinisher was demanding, but after dinner he would spend time entertaining us with board games, card games, and silly stuff. He called one of the games Inches, and he would start at our big toe and say, “One inch, two inches, three inches…” raising the tone of his voice higher and higher as he measured each of us with his thumb and index finger, counting toward our heads. By the time he reached the waist, the tickling, giggling, and wiggling would start, and he’d never reach our chins. That’s my dad.
Dad, I miss spending Father’s Days with you. I will take time to recall hearing you play boogie-woogie on the piano or leading Christmas carols, strumming the guitar. Thank you, Dad, for bringing joy to my life.
A Goldilocks Life 