Last week, i entered an explanation of why this site and my current status is bringing changes along with what is a radical poem for me. Primarily because of Walker Hicks, all of my site is back up and accessible after the site was hacked about a month ago.
Please read the explanation in the Saturday, June 26, 2010 post, "Hacked and revisions." One change is more frequent entries, aka posts. Today's is below:
Belated Father’s Day and Other Thoughts
SAN DIEGO – Yesterday was Father’s Day in Tennessee and in the Southwest corner.
I was far from my father and had one daughter in Texas and the other visiting friends in Berkeley.
I am not overly concerned as I feel much like those folks who resisted Father’s Day becoming a national holiday around 1910 because they “saw it as the first step in filling the calendar with mindless promotions.” (Wikepedia.org) Still I would have liked to have been with my father, even considering the heat index difference between here and there.
On this Father’s Day, Maureen and I spent a quiet time at home, doing chores long put off and watching a bit of soccer’s World Cup, a Padre baseball game, and the the U.S. Open, at Pebble Beach.
No Pebble Beach
Although declared by many to be the best golf course in the world, I won’t play Pebble Beach unless they give me a free round. Green fees are $495 without a cart. Regardless of my being able to afford it or not, that amount of money to play one round of golf is obscene.
While you are reading this, I will likely be on one of the better courses in San Diego, Steele Canyon, paying significantly less than $495 and the amount will be for both me and my wife. It is my belated Father’s Day present.
On Saturday of this Father’s Day weekend, Maureen and I went to the wedding of a neighbor’s daughter at the Island Club, the former Navy Officer’s Club on North Island. The facility is now used for catering and hosting special events.
The wedding started at five in the afternoon. An arbor, replete with flowers and peacock feathers, was set up outside. The wedding party was framed by the backdrop of the beach, Point Loma, and the Pacific horizon.
The bride and her middle sister baby sat for Sarah. The bride’s youngest sister was one of Sarah’s best friends growing up. Neighbors and former neighbors shared a table for the reception and dinner festivities.
I have always enjoyed attending weddings. They are such happy events with just the right amount of ritual and commitment thrown in. Outside of my last one, my favorite wedding and reception was my daughter’s in Austin, fittingly about halfway between Lebanon and the Southwest corner.
That wedding happened 14 years ago come November in the historic, beautiful, and stately Central Christian Church. My entire family was there and my brother was the minister just as he had been for my sister and me.
I was recalling that evening 14 years ago as Saturday’s father of the bride was imploring the “neighbor” table occupants to help him with his toast. I could not help him, but his toast was just right: heartfelt, sincere, with a touch of humor, and not too long.
I remembered how easy it was for me to toast my daughter and brand new son-in-law. Even though my marriage had become an unbreakable bond of love and trust, I did not wish that wedding couple what we had. Instead, my toast to them was actually a toast to them and Blythe’s grandparents. In a way, it was a toast to my home town.
I toasted to Blythe and Jason having a marriage which would emulate the marriage of Jimmy and Estelle Jewell. It appears Blythe and Jason have a good chance of doing just that. Maureen and I also emulate my parents’ marriage, but getting to the 72nd anniversary will be bit tough considering I will be 111.
In two weeks, my parents will celebrate their 72 years together. Such a solid, unwavering marriage was not unique for my parents’ generation. Those folks married and stayed married. And staying together was not out of convenience or fear of embarrassment. Staying together was a product of their love and trust of each other.
There are other couples still around, like J.B. and Jo Doris Leftwich, who have such strong and loving relationships. Sadly, there are not enough because many have left us. Their dedication to each other is hallmark of Lebanon marriages. We honored those on the distaff side last month.
This is a belated thanks and best wishes for this year’s Father’s Day celebrants of that generation, especially my father.
You have shown us what fathering is all about.