Father's Day

I live across the street from an over-priced hipster joint that has a line out the door every weekend with throngs of people dying to make their own pancakes.  The sidewalk is flooded with patrons waiting for a table that has it's own griddle.  Once seated, you can choose a variety of different batters and literally make your own pancakes on the table right in front of you.  It's a novel idea, but it's way too expensive for my taste and I'm not sure it's worth the wait.

Today, Father's Day 2011, I walked past the trendy cafe and saw an even bigger crowd than usual.  Lots of Dads were hanging out, clutching their cups of coffee and obviously enjoying the time with their families.  There were Grandpas with their older, grown-up kids; there were young Daddies hoisting the little ones on their shoulders; and everyone was laughing, happily and patiently waiting for their moment in front of the grill, eagerly anticipating the Mimosas and Bloody Marys that would accompany their delicious breakfast fare. 

Today, I think of my Dad, long gone now, but ever present in my memory.  I wonder what he would make of me as this pseudo grown-up person and if he would be proud of my life.  He lives in me every day; every time I crack a corny joke or have a splash of temper, he's there. 

I miss you Dad.  I wish you were here.  But as corny as this may sound, I see you in my dreams quite often and I thank you for taking the time to visit from wherever you are.  Happy Father's Day Pop!  I love  you, you ol' rapscallion you!