I stopped by my house this morning to check my email and to check my answering machine for messages. There was a message from my father to come and eat lunch with them today. A conciliatory act I guess. The passage of time does heal wounds. I drove to their house around eleven ‘o’ clock. Maggie wiggled furiously in their fence and started to dig with vigor to get out. I walked over to pet her and give her a big belly rub. I then walked on inside with butterflies in my stomach hoping this first visit in weeks wouldn’t erupt into a furious argument.
My father has hired a new full time cook and she is much better than their previous one. She prepares food in the old southern tradition. President Taft, a Yankee, once came to the South for a conference and his only comment about the South to his aides was, “They served me greasy vegetables and corn bread.” My father’s new cook prepares the vegetables that same way since those days long ago of President Taft’s visit. We had fried chicken, butterbeans w/ fat back for seasoning, squash casserole, deviled eggs, and one of the most delicious pans of corn bread I have ever eaten.
“You’re brother got back from Iraq yesterday,” My father said as we sat there eating our meal.
“I was just about to ask you that,” I replied. “I knew it would be any day now.”
“Lily (his daughter) asked him why he doesn’t wear panties,” Dad said as he chuckled. “It had been that long since a man had been in the house and he walked out of the bedroom with his boxer shorts on. She thought everybody wore panties.”
“Well, I hope my brother doesn’t start cross dressing,” I replied snidely in jest.
We all laughed.
My brother is an officer in the Navy with the rank of Lieutenant. He was attached to a group of Marines as a physician in a mobile field hospital. He had served eight long months in Iraq. It was good to have him home. When he left his daughter was barely talking. Now, you can’t get her to be quiet.
As I began to walk out of my Parent’s backdoor after saying farewell, my father handed me a bundle of season football tickets wrapped together with a rubber band.
“I expect to see you at the Auburn game tonight,” He said. “I will be looking for you.”
“I wouldn’t miss it for anything in the world,” I replied as I gave him a hug. “I will see you around 7:45 tonight.”
“Time does indeed heal wounds,” I thought as I drove down the street to park in my secluded spot to write and read for a few hours.
All it takes is for one of us to reach out to each other. I and my father will probably always fundamentally disagree on things and will have a contentious relationship. That doesn’t mean we can’t look beyond those differences and still love each other. See ya at the game dad.
No comments:
Post a Comment