While on the phone with my mom last Monday, in the middle of a normal conversation, her voice suddenly dropped and became slightly muffled.
“Ma, are you alright? You sound kind of odd.”
“I don’t want your dad to hear, because I’m about to remind you to send him a Father’s Day card.”
“Oh crap, that’s next Sunday, thanks for the reminder. You know I’m not so good when it comes to cards.”
She left it at that, hoping that I would remember to get the card in the mail. I put it off that night, but Tuesday evening I remembered and on a burst of energy, went rummaging throught the drawers of my desk, hoping that I’d find an appropriate card. I found one that I believe must have originally purchased by one of my grandparents many years back, but it was directly Father’s Day related, and so fit the bill. I wrote a nice note in the card, addressed it, stamped it and left it lying on the bar when I headed out Wednesday morning. I remembered it Thursday and popped into the box at the Main Post Office on my way to work. When I talked to my mom Saturday, she mentioned that it had arrived. Success! I finally managed to get a card to it’s recipient on time. Sadly, my father wasn’t in town last weekend, so the full effects of the mailing effort were lost, but I do get points for intention.
Last month, around Mother’s Day, I wrote a post about the things that I learned from my mom. I think it’s only right that my dad get similar treatment.
He taught me, starting at the age of three, how to hold a bat and swing at a whiffle ball when he rolled it along the ground to me. As I got older, we moved from sitting to standing, and he helped me learn how to hit that ball over the fence and into Mrs. Bobo’s yard. Next he taught me how to catch a fly ball and how not to throw like a girl. I have never played softball on an organized team, but every now and then, I have the opportunity to pull out these whiffle/softball/baseball skills and they always impress.
He taught me how to stuff a turkey and make more gravy than you could possibly need.
He taught me the same five guitar chords (G, D, F, C and A), every time I asked, never annoyed that I had forgotten.
He taught me how to pump gas, check my oil, hide a hid-a-key and the best way to apply a bumper sticker.
He taught me how to use a computer, shoot a picture and drive a car. To move furniture and make waffles. What good beer should taste like and how to use chopsticks.
Who Jimmy Rogers, Chuck Berry, Buddy Holly and John Sebastian are.
To always run the threads of a screw through a little soap before attempting to apply it, in order to ease it’s way.
How to relax with yoga breathing, so that sleep comes easily.
And last, that you should never force anything because you’ll just end up breaking it.
Happy Father’s Day!