When I was a kid, and Father’s Day or his birthday rolled around, I would buy my Dad a tie. Or a wallet. I wasn’t very creative back then. At Christmas, people would get something from the craft-fair at school. Nothing with glue or dried macaroni on it, because I thought that was a waste of food. But if my Grandparents needed a magnet or a bookmark with a purple tassel on it, they knew I would hook them up…
Last Saturday, Sarge and I got up early to see our wedding venue decked out for a wedding. The sun was out and I could picture next year, our people in that room. ‘And we’ll announce you from here,’ said the events planner person. And I cried. We headed toward breakfast and I wondered again why I order pancakes anywhere that isn’t my Dad’s house. Sarge finished them off for me, and I made him shoot some cherry blossoms on…
