This year I’ll celebrate my 42nd Father’s Day. Cathy, 42 has three kids of her own and Jen, who lives in Australia, will be thirty-three. And Richard (the baby) just turned 30. He's as old as I was the day he was born.
When did that happen?
Wasn’t it just yesterday we were chasing each other through the house with their mom yelling for us to “take it outside”? Didn’t we just put that final coat of paint on Richard’s pinewood derby car? And it couldn’t have been that long ago when Cathy received her high school award for sewing. She’s still a domestic diva, by the way. And didn’t Jen just floor me and her mom, announcing she was moving to the other side of the world?
Forty-two Father’s Days!
But since the only folks that don’t get older are sx feet under, I guess being of advanced age isn’t so bad.
I was just 18 when Cathy was born…not much more than a kid myself. Lucky for me she didn’t know what a novice dad she was getting. Lucky for me I had no idea that there was a car out there somewhere, waiting for her to turn two years old… and then cross its path.
I gained a few years that day.
I gained a few more years later, when a pickup truck broadsided Jen in her little Plymouth. But those are stories for another day....not today.
Yep, forty-two Father’s Days can include some pretty scary times.
But in between those horrors there were so many more moments of magic. Every year brought 3 birthday cakes, complete with gifts & smiles, photos of 42 Christmas’s with tree hunting, trimming (and taking down afterwards), 3 kids, each having their first day at school, each learning to ride a bike, 2 learning to water ski, 1 learning to snow ski. Three graduations and 3 grandchildren!
Three lifetimes for me to share!
How blessed am I?
Forty-two times (so far)
Happy Father’s Day to all you Dads and soon-to-be Dads out there!