As the commercial air industry acknowledges, when we disembark: we know you have a choice...
Well, none of us had a determinative choice in the parental marketplace. You don’t know what you’re gonna get. Some of us lucked out, at one or both ends of the lottery.
We do all have a choice, though, to acknowledge or not the best efforts of our fallible fathers and mothers to provide early nurture, support, and encouragement as we commenced our uncertain life journeys. There are no perfect parents, but some of us gave it our best shot.
So I just have to say how grateful I am for Younger Daughter's perennial expressions of acknowledgement and appreciation--and not just on designated Hallmark holidays. But those are not to be under-rated, Fathers Day has become just about my favorite.
She and her boyfriend picked us up around lunchtime and announced a mystery destination. It turned out to be Brown’s Diner, which for years before it closed and then re-opened under new ownership rivaled Rotier's as my favorite local purveyor of classic Americana cuisine. Yesterday I opted for the catfish sandwich and onion rings, and a father-daughter photo in front of”The Last Waltz” and “Cardinals Nation” posters. Unfortunately we came too late to pop in to Friedman’s next door, one last time. But the hotter-than-blazes early afternoon was perfectly capped by coffee ice cream at Jeni's just down the way.
And then there was the big bag of snacks from Trader Joe's, and the dachshund-shaped corn skewers. Love it!
But her recognition and gratitude is really all the reward I would ever ask for. Or need. Being the daily care-giving, wiffleball playing, picture-book reading dad of bright, inquisitive, talented, playful daughters decades ago was the joy of my mid-life. Sustaining close and regular contact with one of them, and seeing at close range what a lovely young woman she has become, keeps the joy alive.
Grandpa would be proud too.