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A few months ago I read a book called Chasing Daylight by Eugene O’Kelly. To me, the most important takeaway from the book is that we all have “perfect moments.” These are the unanticipated little times when everything seems to fall into place for a perfect memory to be made. It’s our challenge to recognize when this happens and savor these perfect moments with the hope that we can hold onto them forever. That brings me to Father’s Day – and fatherhood in general.
When I look back on my best Father’s Day memories, well, I don’t seem to have any. Don’t get me wrong – I have great memories of my dad, but nothing about that specific day. With three grown daughters of my own to search for past great Father’s Days, I pretty much come up blank, too. Oh, I remember the time a few years ago when my daughters told me to dress casual with comfortable walking shoes and they would surprise me. We visited the grand reopening of our Kansas City Zoo, which was promoted for Father’s Day. I don’t remember much about the zoo, but I know it was a great time to be with my daughters. On another Father’s Day we all went out to play miniature golf. We didn’t play particularly well, but we had a great time then, too. The third memory is of a Father’s Day weekend seven years ago, when my youngest daughter and I had breakfast on the beach before her California wedding to our son-in-law. And that’s pretty much it. Sixty-five occasions with a Father’s Day celebrated every year, and I remember three of them. That’s fine with me. I look at that “day” as a whole series of “days.” I was blessed to have a mother and father who were married and stayed married. My mother was a homemaker; my dad, a nurseryman who came home every night – and even every day for lunch. I met and married my wife, Rose, and, as I mentioned, we have three daughters.
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