I’ve done it again. I’ve wasted another perfectly good week working, mowing, tinkering with the old car, folding laundry and sleeping. With all the chores accomplished, I somehow failed to come up with any commemorative father’s day materials. No cards made. No money sent. I know we’re talking about a Hallmark holiday here, but my dad has never missed a beat as a father—the least I could do is let him know I’m a grateful son.
Grateful for teaching me the importance of making a living.
Grateful for taking me to car shows.
Grateful for pushing me to open a bank account at 14.
Grateful for pushing me to go to college the first time. And go back the second time.
Grateful for all the loans, advice and guidance.
Grateful for the fact that he still answers the phone every time I call—especially when he knows there’s a good chance I’m looking for a loan, advice or guidance.
I suppose these days a blog post could be a viable replacement for a Lowe’s gift certificate or a can of mixed nuts. And I suppose I could send him a link to this last-minute acknowledgement. But I’ll probably just let it be and make sure to buy his breakfast the next time we visit Anton’s.