I’ve been on the fence about posting anything today. My family is not the sappiest of families. But, with everything that’s been going on, I feel the need to be. Except I don’t want to be. Am I making any sense? Anyway…
Yesterday I was up visiting my father and when I was watching him I started having one of those 80’s movie montages in my head of my childhood. There were a few things that stuck out. However, there’s one in particular that I can’t get out of my head. So, because it’s Father’s Day and I’m feeling schmaltzy, I figured I’d share it.
When I was about six, my mom fell and broke her ankle. For that summer she and I stayed with my grandmother because she lived in an apartment that was in the lobby of the building so it was much easier to maneuver. I stayed because I had really bad separation anxiety. Every weekend my father would pick me up and we would go to our summer house in New Jersey. Because I missed my mom and because there were no televisions in the bedrooms, I couldn’t sleep. So my father let me lay in my mom’s bed*.
*for some reason, there were two beds in the master bedroom. eventually my parents pushed them together to make one bed but, for a while, their bedroom looked like something out of a 50’s sitcom.
I was still nervous and couldn’t fall asleep. Since I was in my own bed and my father was already asleep in his own bed, I didn’t know what to do. Even now, if I can’t fall asleep, I get anxious. Like I’m going to get in trouble for being awake. Anyway, I couldn’t take it anymore so I woke him up and asked him to hold my hand until I fell asleep. Our hands fell into the open space between the beds and even though it was uncomfortable for both of us, we did it every weekend until my mom was better and able to come to the house with us.
I guess what I’m trying to say is thanks, Dad. For always holding my hand when I needed it most. Happy Father’s Day. Love you.
Happy Father’s Day to all the dads out there!
What are your plans for the day?