Father's Day

Father's Day

The subtle chime of the Westminster clock echoed another hour as the light in the evening sky slowly fell from the living room window into the shadows of early dusk. The house was quiet, except for the ticking of the clock, but the old man’s thoughts were very much alive with the moving silhouettes of children, laughing from chasing games they played so long ago, like, “Beware the Claw!” and “The Roaring Monster”!

Memories, all with happy endings, play out in his mind like old black and white movies as he sits comfortably in his shapely wooden chair passed down to him from his grandfather.

Content in thought, a smile trembles on his lower lip with a far away gaze that is captured in the mirror across from him with the last rays of light from the sky. It’s Fathers Day and the children will surely call.

Would they remember the silly bedtime stories that never had an ending, the summer campfires roasting marshmallows, or stargazing in the country from lawn chairs till sleep took them. The walks in elf forest, and coming home with the plunder of the elf’s little treasure chest full of old coins found in the hollow of a tree. Would they remember the winter magic of jumping in snow drifts ten feet tall, the toboggan runs on the village hills that were filled with hearty glee and laughter or the ice rink behind the house that lit up the trees and young imaginations after supper… It’s Fathers Day and the children will surely call.

Thoughts then turn to his own father, a man that took life by the horns and made everything right. A hero who fought on the side of good in World War II, a man who became a community builder, a coach, mentor and role model. The father who drove his son around on his Sunday paper route in a four-door powder blue Plymouth Fury III with perfectly folded newspapers he stacked in rows on the front bench seat ready for delivery by a ten-year-old boy.

Memories wisp and billow through his thoughts to then open up to a place in time when he was gently woken by the aroma of freshly buttered toast, coffee, and the busy sounds of CFCF radio 600. Dad was always the first one up and prepared breakfast for the family.

Time then jumps to hockey games in the winter, soccer in the summer and football in the fall. They all echo the old man’s shouts of encouragement from those halls of yesteryear. Exciting moments from early days that encompass the smiles from a boy now past his father’s age.

The clock chimed another hour and still the phone was silent…no worry, today is Fathers Day, and the children will surely call.

Thoughts go back to a hospital room where his old man battled a terminal illness. A cold numbness remains from the day he passed away; it was the day before Father’s Day and the family was there with him.

He recalled the helplessness of the moment, standing beside his hospital bed as he watched his father die in front of him; the black blood that came up when he coughed, just before the life slowly left his eyes. He remembered trying empathically to pull him back from the river of death that claimed him, and wonders still, if his father heard his words in his transit towards the light, “I love you Dad”! It was the first time in his life that he was able to muster the courage to tell him.

…And just as thunder startles life on the earth, a knock at the door shakes the old man to the present, as the hallway fills with the merry sounds of children and adults. They fill the room with their smiles, energy and life, “Happy Fathers Day Grandad”!

“Go put your things away or the claw will come to get you!” said the old man’s son to his giddy happy children. He then turns to the old man and says, "It’s so good to see you Dad, Happy Father's Day"!

--------------------------------------------------------------

Edit Date:  20240616