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.
Maggie and Lil plant in Granddad’s garden.
Photo Credit: Bosh Bruening
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.
We’re neither Ozzie & Harriett Nelson nor Ozzie & Sharon Osbourne, but we have our own space somewhere in between. My true “Father’s Day” remembrances begin with the birth of each of my daughters. The first time I saw each little face is a perfect moment. I remember their first days of school, their highs and lows, learning to drive, first dates, high school graduations, college graduations, etc. And I remember them all as a whole series of perfect moments.
We now have two perfect granddaughters, 2 and 5 years old. I remember their births and the first time on those days when I saw their sweet little faces. Their first steps, words, etc., and – just a couple of weeks ago – a terrific little graduation ceremony from Montessori school for the 5-year-old. Last week my wife and I picked her up after school at her kindergarten. She looked so big and so little all at the same time. That was a Father’s Day moment to me. Okay, a Grandfather’s Day moment. It doesn’t matter. Father’s Day covers the whole 65 years for me – whether as a son, a father or a grandfather.
And this photo is clearly of another perfect moment for me. Last Saturday afternoon we were taking care of Maggie and Lil, and together we planted two tomato plants and two purple sweet potato plants in our garden. That night it rained, and the next morning Maggie and Lil, who live about 45 miles away, called to see if it had rained on our “new garden.” That was Father’s Day for me.
Rose and I will be on a cruise of the Danube River somewhere in Austria this Father’s Day, away from our daughters and granddaughters, but it won’t matter one bit. I’ll still have my Father’s Day perfect moments with me – and more to come when I get back.
That’s as perfect as it gets.
