37 Years Ago Today...

My mom and dad were married on October 14, 1967. 13 months later, I came on the scene. 3 years after that, my brother Philip showed up.

Tonight, Traci and I went to pick up my mom and the wonderful meal she had prepared at her place and took her and that meal to Hampton, GA, to see share an anniversary dinner my dad. My mom and dad have been separated on and off (mostly on) since February 15, 1999, when my dad moved out. It's been hard the last 5 years seeing them not being together. After 32 years of nothing but them being together, this change has been a hard one to adjust to.

Our meal was a demonstration of my mom's loving attention to detail. Chicken, spinach salad, steamed squash, asparagus, whole wheat rolls, strawberry cider (champagne for those that don't drink champagne) complete with flowers and candles. It was also a reminder of my dad's perceived distance from us all. My dad seemed to appreciate it but did not say much. He rarely does.

My dad was diagnosed with Alzheimer's in August of 1997. His separation from my mom is because of care needs he has, his not being around family events the last 5 years are due to his illness, and his silence at the dinner table is because he largely stopped speaking in 2001. Even so, my dad's eye (he has only one, his left one, as cancer robbed him of his right eye in 1995) caught mine a few times tonight and I knew, we all knew, that he appreciated all of our taking the time and making the effort to be there. We held hands, prayed, fed him, laughed (including my dad and mostly at me), drank pretend champagne in plastic cups and remembered as many of the last 37 anniversaries as possible. It was a precious few hours for me and my bride to spend with my dad and his.

I miss my dad. I miss him not being able to play with my sons like he played with me. I miss not being able to bounce off of him the questions, fears, concerns I have as a husband, father, minister, and man. I miss more than I can even put into words but...I am thankful for what I do have with him. I can still hold his hand, feed him, take him for short walks, and be the focus of his vision when he chooses to look at me. For everything we don't have, we have that. And for that, I am very, very thankful.