Happy Father's Day

Last night I went to a wedding. After the ceremony we were filing out of the hall and ended up standing behind a man that smelled terribly. He had a boot on his foot that you'd wear as you're healing from a break with a polo shirt and khakis. I found a way to pull Jim out of line and let this man walk ahead of us. When we got to the elevator here was the man again. I got to look at him while we waited. I tried to figure out where the smell came from, how a person could get comfortable in a smell like that. And then I realized how similar in build he was to my Dad- probably the same height, same size, similar hair, same borderline casual dress. All of a sudden I realized that I am my dad's family. Some day I may be the smell censor for my dad- time to take a shower, dad. Some day I may be my father's keeper. Freaked me right out. Note: I'm pretty sure that this guy at the wedding was an alcoholic and had some other afflictions working against him, unlike my Dad. It was no less haunting.
Tonight, after dinner, my Dad was watching the Braves game in my living room and asked me if I had any experience cutting hair. I said no and asked him why he didn't go to the barber. He said that he only needs a trim on the bottom, that his hair doesn't grow as fast on top anymore. This was the reason he gave for not going to the barber- because all of his hair on his head didn't need cutting. Oh yes it does. So I cut it, though I had no idea what I was doing. Well, OK, I did try to imitate some of the things I'd seen my hairdresser do. It turned out pretty good. While I was cutting his hair, and my Dad was watching the Braves game, he kept teasing me about how long it was taking me. The guy is too much some times. I'm giving you a free haircut! His hair had gotten really scraggly in the back. How had he let it grow this long? He said that he had a home haircutter (what does that even mean?) but that it was hard to get the back. Is this how it starts or has my dad just always been this "eccentric", everything's normal. I think it's actually just a natural progression, this is my Dad getting older.
I sent him home with the rest of the french potato salad (in America's Test Kitchen, very good) that he loves and also the rest of the half-pint Diet Cokes we'd gotten just for him. That's my Dad. He's not degenerating, he's still my Dad only older and maybe more concentrated.
Gratitudes to my Dad;
"the safest place you could be is in my pocket"
A taste for wry and ridiculous humor
my broad vocabulary
new pickles and lox
morning wake up songs in elementary school
Ethel Tuveson
adding his own lines to my favorite story books
Teaching me about anger and how to express it