Remembering my father on Father's Day

Yesterday after helping Kelly with the changing of her tire (more on that tomorrow) we were sitting in the kitchen discussing whether or not Kelly would make it home on the tire. She was concerned that it would flatten just as she got to the crest of the new bridge that leads to her beach house. She was also lamenting that she needed to go to the grocery but was worried that her tire would go flat while inside shopping and then she would have no way to get home. I remarked that she seemed awfully concerned about getting home as if there were no other way in the world she would ever see her home again if her tire went flat.

We were sort of snickering about this as she went on and on about what it would take for her to get home and where her car would be left when Tom piped up from his position at the brownie pan on the stove. "Well," he said as if this were the stupidest conversation he had ever heard in his life, "you can always walk home."

Kelly and I looked at one another while visions of how far her home was from my house (down the road, turn left for 1/2 mile, left at the light that leads to the bridge which is miles and miles long, left on the beach, miles to her road) and promptly burst into laughter that was loud and long and ended with tears streaming down our faces at the thought of Kelly hiking it home.

Tom shrugged. "You could. It's probably 3 miles." He waited while we laughed some more. "If you had to."

I shook my head and looked at Kelly and told her the following story:

Once when Susan was here visiting and Austin and Madison were little we decided to walk to the park in the bluffs. We had Madison in a stroller and Austin walking and we thought we would never get there. We took the back roads through the neighborhood and it went on and on and on and Susan kept saying, "I thought you said this was just down the street". And I thought it was. It seemed like it when driving. I thought we could do it and we did. We got to the park and the children played, but the whole time they were having fun Susan and I were thinking of having to walk back home again with cranky tired kids, one of whom would have to walk on little 4 year old legs. We were dreading the whole thing and just sitting and whining and getting worried about whether or not we could make it home when down the road toward the park came my father in his big Lincoln town car. He pulled up, parked, and joined us on the benches, and when we asked him what in the world he was doing there, he smiled and said, "I thought you gals might be wanting a ride home!"

And as I finished this story I remembered that today was Father's Day, and I thought it a fitting story to remember and share on this day.