So, my best friend called this morning to start it all, and it went well, or at least as well as it could have been since I had hoped to be in the Friendly Islands and avoid the whole thing. Oh well, didn’t work out that way. But the cancelled trip gave me some un-programmed time to think.

I staggered out to the pool when the call was done, drawn to the sparkling water the danced in our old-school pool.

Once I exchanged pleasantries with Joanna the Polish Lifeguard, who is one of those young women that I hope has the best of lives. Looking out over her coming century I wish her luck. On the deck, I connected the waterproof IPod and plunged into the cool water under the serene blue sky. Then I spent 90 minutes of vigorous swimming, listening to my book and avoiding any contact with concrete.

I watched families come and go as I plodded in the water, thinking back to what it had been like dealing with tiny kids and floaty arm bands and pool toys and how much I loved being a Dad.

Eventually, I had other things to do in the afternoon, but decided not to do them.

I retreated to my patio and thought I might read. The delightful day seemed to call out for music, and the age of my IPad and lack of storage meant the only audio thing left on the tablet was a playlist of the “25 most played” songs. I listened to them all, and my God, traveled across the decades, from the fantail of a warship in the Philippines to Nashville and beyond. I thought about the people who I loved who are not here anymore. and some of the lyrics that called them up before me caused fat tears to run down my cheeks.

It was this day in 1951 that a completely inexperienced couple drove to Mt. Carmel Mercy Hospital to experiment with having a child. Dad checked Mom into the OB/GYN and went down to the cafeteria to have a slice of apple pie. These things are mysteries best left to women and Doctors, and in those days, fathers were not welcome in the delivery room.

An orderly came for him before he could raise his fork, and said that Mom and I wanted to see him.

On my 66th birthday, it seemed to work out pretty well. God bless you all. No shit.

Vic

Sent from my iPad