Sunday is Father’s Day — a celebration of dad and all he does throughout the year.
It can be a bittersweet day for those who no longer have the patriarch of the family around to honor. My father has been gone for 16 years now and there are still times it feels like just a few months.
It’s funny the things that stick in your mind about people when they are gone. Little things that don’t really mean anything — except to you.
My father had many good qualities. He was honest, hard-working and always ready to extend help to others. He also had a few, well, let’s call them quirks.
We had a summer cottage in Michigan for more than 20 years. Each weekend, we would pack up and travel north for fishing, swimming and a host of other activities. Packing the car was always dad’s job.
First, just let me say the man had an uncanny ability to pack three cars’ worth of stuff in the back of our station wagon and still have clear visibility in the rear-view mirror.
Anyone who unwittingly put something in the car without his knowledge was quickly redressed. “Now, why would you put that there?” he would demand. “If you put it here, we still have room for…” And of course, he would be right.
He also loved to mow the grass. I would watch him walk along behind the mower holding a conversation with himself. Sometimes, I guess you just need to work things out on your own.