Today was so pleasant.
I visited the Sunday School class my Dad teaches. It's always nice to see how much others regard your family members.
We let him pick where he wanted to eat, so off to Carolina Kitchen we went. He's not into fancy restaurants. He always says, "I'm a meat and potatoes kind of guy".
We let him pick where he wanted to eat, so off to Carolina Kitchen we went. He's not into fancy restaurants. He always says, "I'm a meat and potatoes kind of guy".
(He really could be one of their spokespeople.)
After brunch, it was just nice to sit around his kitchen table and listen to him talk. Navy stories. Louisiana stories. It was especially nice to hear him reminiscing about a road trip he and my Mom took years ago.
On my way home, as I waited at the light at South Capitol Street and Southern Avenue, I saw three young women crossing the street, heading in the direction of Eastover Shopping Center. Between the three of them, there were about ten little kids--three in strollers.
On my way home, as I waited at the light at South Capitol Street and Southern Avenue, I saw three young women crossing the street, heading in the direction of Eastover Shopping Center. Between the three of them, there were about ten little kids--three in strollers.
The sight wouldn't have seemed so odd if not for the fact that it's Fathers' Day. Then I checked myself. Maybe it wasn't odd at all.
Maybe their significant others were in the military. Maybe they were working.
Maybe the dads asked for a quiet day to themselves, and the women decided to take the kids out.
Maybe the fathers of all of the children were deceased. Incarcerated. Deployed.
Maybe they were deadbeats.
Maybe the women were unbearable shrews.
Maybe I just needed to mind my own business, and stop feeling sorry for people who may not have needed any pity at all.
I still couldn't help wondering.
It's Fathers' Day.
Funny, but there were no rose, helium balloon, Katydids, corsage, or stuffed animal vendors on the corners and highway islands.
The church parking lot was full, but not packed.
Maybe Dad is right. Maybe we do hold Mother's Day in higher esteem.
Today was a good day. As it progressed, I became keenly aware that, although I'm not the only one who celebrated having a consistently present father, it was a celebration not to be taken for granted.
A FATHER'S GREAT LOVE
What father would would not seek, and find a lost child
And leave him to wander alone?
What father would not do all that he could do
To care for and cover his own?
What father would not give the best that he has
Without thinking twice of the cost?
What father would shower affection without care
And leave lacking who needs him most?
A father is one whose love is made out of Love
He's present, in spite of where or when
It is the perfect example of God in the Earth
A father's great love for his children
What father would look upon one whose young face
So mirrors and speaks of his own
And not feel the anguish when life starts to make
A claim on all he's ever known
What father would not rather lose all he has
In hopes to make all right again
What father would not work with all of his strength
To point out safe, and straight paths to walk in
A father is one whose love is made out of love
He's present, in spite of where or when
It is the perfect example of God in the earth
A father's great love for his children
VRW © 2012
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