If my father were still alive he would be turning 57 today. It’s been 2 and a half years since his passing and I’ve finally adjusted to the new reality that his absence created. Today, instead of feeling sad I’m celebrating by thinking of my favorite memories of my father. Like this one:
Early on a summer morning many years ago I was ejected from a less than reputable motel with no money or transportation. This was not the first or last time I’d find myself broke and stranded at a sleazy location but it is the only time I was in that situation wearing a tuxedo and with a date.
I started heading for a pay phone with some idea of making collect calls until someone agreed to come get me when I found my salvation right in front of me; heading towards a familiar car in the parking lot…was my dad.
He dropped my date at her house and then drove me home. He didn’t ask me any questions and I didn’t feel like I was in a position to demand answers. We never spoke of it again but I’m sure that my dad had just as good an explanation as I did.