If you’re a dad, I hope it went well. For me, everyone basically left me alone on the couch all afternoon to ice my right ankle which I rolled badly while running a trail yesterday morning and to rehydrate after crashing and burning in the rising morning heat somewhere around mile eight.
Man, it just doesn’t get any better than that.
Consigned to the couch, I watched the US Open. I don’t play golf and rarely watch it, but I was trapped. But it became interesting and even mildly dramatic, going down to the final hole before a winner was decided. Maybe my sudden tolerance for the sedateness of the sport had something to do with having just read this little father-son tearjerker.
For me, it’s not the anniversaries or holidays when I miss my Dad the most.
It’s when I have a question, like: How do I install a ceiling fan without burning down the house?
Or: How do I be a good daddy?
There is nothing but silence, though, and I plod on.