Father's Day

Peter Pan & Tink by Paulette Goodreau

Today would have been my dad's 85th birthday ... When I drove past the cemetery on my way home yesterday -- which was Fathers' Day -- I stopped by to visit. Mom is worried about the neighborhood; the apartments and homes around Calvary Hill Cemetery are decidedly blue collar Hispanic now -- but I saw many other families paying their patriarchal respects, so I didn't worry about any unexpected muggers. Planes zoomed overhead on their way to Love Field -- Dad was on the road much of his career, though usually he drove rather than flew. I suppose he might shake his head over my more recent decisions ... and I'm sure Mom and my brothers are doing the same. I remember my dad's smile the most -- and his horribly corny jokes that my brothers repeat at the most annoying times when the families are all together ... My nieces groan (just as I did) while I try not to laugh. I suppose that's one legacy to keep a man alive; that, and my brothers' determination to support their families.

In some ways, my dad held onto his inner little boy -- which probably frustrated my practical mom. I remember his sense of play -- though he worked hard on his various side businesses. Unfortunately, his plans to build a business to support Mom and him after his forced retirement never quite worked out ... In fact, he gave his life for his family, and his heart played out.

So, how does my dad tie into the Peter Pan mythos? Peter played "father" to Wendy's "mother" -- and their give-and-take mirrors my parents on one level. We never had any pixie dust, unless you count imagination to let folks soar. Jon had his music; Rob math and motorcyles; and I had writing & theatre ... and now dolls that I costume and create stories ... if I can figure out how to work the templates to build storyboards once more.

Everyone -- clap 3 times, so Tink can fly again!