I’ve heard a lot about different Father’s days. Some do time away from the family (golf buddy trip), some do time with the family, some make it father and son time. I think all three are appropriate. This year I happened to hurt my back (again) and was unable to play golf on Saturday or Sunday like I normally would have. Instead Nita, Connor, Josie, my mom and I all went to the club pool in our golf carts. We played in both pools without another person showing up for a couple of hours. Then we had a nice dinner where my Father’s day platter was unveiled. Both of our mom’s came for steaks, scallops, roasted corn, and a lovely strawberry cake (thanks for helping daddy blow out the candle Connor). Finally I can bring in everything from the grill in one trip, added bonus that it has Josie and Connor’s foot and hand prints on said platter.
I started thinking about all the crappy ties and crappier excuses I gave my father through our 26 years together. Sure the wife/mom is responsible for the gift for at least the first 10 or so years, but what about my last 16?. Okay, money aside, did I do my best? Not really. Of course no one tries to be a good parent so they get cool gifts from children three times a year (birthday, Christmas, and Father’s/Mother’s day) or at least they shouldn’t use that as the incentive. I mean I know if he were still alive now he’d get some really cool stuff. I know I try to take care of my mother and get her some neat things. What would I do now? I’d probably take him to a ball game…in another state. Maybe take him fishing in Canada, or just spend the day with him.
Thinking about this reminded me about March 11, 1996, our last day together. I’d gotten two tickets to see Texas A&M baseball vs. Michigan in College Station. I asked dad if he wanted to go. He said yes. The night before I went out partying with my friends and was seriously hung over the next day. So much so that I called mom and asked if dad was even interested in going to the game or if he was being polite (hoping for the latter). Mom said, “Mijo, he is really excited. He’s been telling his friends all week.” So I told her, “Tell him I’m excited too and to meet me at (not important) and we’ll drive up together.” So dad met me and off we went. We talked about a job opportunity I had in Phoenix and he gave me advice on how to truly measure salary (proximity to friends, family, laundry, entertainment, travel, soft costs, etc.) We talked about maturity, success, work ethic, and baseball. We got to College station with plenty of time to go eat at Tom’s BBQ. We got to the game and watched the Aggies beat the Wolverines. Then we drove home. We didn’t argued at all (rare for us) the entire way. Most of you who know me know I’m very competitive in the debate arena and I kind of learned it from him. We used to have some doozies. He dropped me off at my truck, I hugged him and told him that I loved him.
That night he had a heart attack and died in his bed. I often thank God for the nudge to spend this last day with him. I don’t know if I’d have ever been able to forgive myself if I’d have blown him off and he then died that night. I hope Connor and Josie and I have a similar last day. He also died in the bed of his adoring wife of 39 years. I hope I get that luxury as well. I hope the day I go to be judged that I have a chance to tell and hear from my family that I love them and they love me. I miss you dad, you would have loved Nita. Connor would have adored you, and Josie would have melted your heart. Rest in peace and happy Father’s day.
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