Lunch With My Father
He held the chair for me.
As we entered the restaurant, Dad held the chair out for me. That was unprecedented. He had always held out the chair for my mom, but never me. Since getting married and moving out of my parents' home in 1981, my father and I hadn't spent much time alone. Sure, our family visited often and we shared many meals and holidays together. A one-on-one lunch with Dad was unique.
He told me he was proud of me.
As we ate, Dad told me how happy he was that The Hubster and I had started our own business. "I'm really proud of you," he said, "I know what a big challenge that is." I told him about the clients we were working with, and how determined I was to make it a successful venture.
He talked to me like an equal.
My father had retired by this time, after decades as a Boeing test engineer. He was an astute investor, and we discussed the portfolio The Hubster and I were building. I told him I had studied the Kiplinger newsletter and he seemed impressed. We even compared some mutual funds. I felt like the conversation had give and take. Dad wasn't just giving me advice, we were relating as peers.
Three brief years later, my father was gone.
Every once in a while, I take this memory out of my heart's pocket, and turn it over in my mind. The way he smiled and looked me in the eye, are things I will never forget. I always had the love and support of my father, but on that day in 2002, I had his undivided attention.
Happy Fathers Day, Daddy! I miss you.
Female in Motion Exercise Update: I did four disco aerobic workouts last week, and much less sore muscles. The tendinitis is still giving me fits, though. I hobble around like a 100-year-old.
Proverbs 23:24 (KJV)
The father of the righteous shall greatly rejoice: and he that begetteth a wise child shall have joy of him.