Lunch With My Father
It was early in 2002, and my parents and I attended the funeral of a member of my childhood church. The congregation hosted a family dinner after the service, and my mom volunteered to help serve. I figured I would simply head back home, but Dad asked me to stay and he would take me out to lunch. 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 ...