As I got ready to go for my morning walk today, I grabbed a “baseball”
hat to wear under my jacket hood. I
opened the secret door (which doubles as a bookcase) and there was this blue
hat. It wasn’t the one that I was
expecting, but it was the one that I needed.
This was dad’s. He was a Cal fan
even though he didn’t attend there … but mom did while he was in the Army
during WWII. Doug went for a year before
heading to PLU and I attended for a year while still in High School (kind of
the same as AP classes these days). I
grew up going to Cal games (including those with Stanford, the great
rivalry). We would park and walk (and
walk and walk) to get to the stadium.
The reality is … when I put the hat on, I felt a sense of
calm, love, warmth and protection. It was just a hat, wasn’t it? No it was a connection to a saint, my
dad. A man who said little … who would alert
me when things needed gentleness … who would get in his car and drive miles to
be with one of us when we needed care.
When I moved to NY he came and helped hang wall paper (actually he and mom did all the work) in my dining
room. When he was almost finished, he
announced that this would be the last time he would paint or wallpaper for one
of his kids (bad news since I was the youngest!). When I
got my first cell phone over a decade ago, I would often call on my way home
from work …. As I pulled in the driveway I would say “well dad, I have to go
now, just pulling in the driveway.” One day he said “I know why you call on
your way home … “ He knew that was a
time limit.
We all need saints. They
are all around us …
Stay connected to them ...
Thanks Dad.
