Cheese And Crackers, With A Couple Shots of Gin

Miss me? No? Not even a little? You didn’t wonder for a mere second where those great words of indescribable wisdom had gone since not posting a blog entry last Thursday? Really? Well, I WOULD have been crushed, but since ‘Tattered Laces’ is still new to the cyber community of blog readers, I understand. And it’s not like a little bit of therapy won’t correct this feeling of devastation.

Anyway, I took a break from posting last Thursday and instead visited the ol’ parents who lived 8 ½ hours away. And though it could have been looked as being the return of a prodigal son – since never having the funds to make the trek on a regular basis – my wife and I knew that it was time for a much-needed visit.

In reflection, it’s something how a visit to the parents can bring you back to the center of your being. How by sleeping in their house and eating the foods fixed by their hands somehow fulfills a certain kinda peace or a touch of security in ones life. A feeling, which I am well aware, comes from the blessing that both of mine are still around – mentally and physically.

However, you know what I enjoy the most whenever visiting my folks? Happy hour! Yes, happy hour! It’s the time of day that usually took place around 4:30 or 5:00 when my father and I would share cheese and crackers, as well as a few spirited drinks. And since we never had the opportunity in the past to just sit and talk, this time during the visits always gave us that chance - and that’s why I enjoy those moments so much.

You see, while growing up my father was on the road A LOT, doing whatever it took to put bread on the table and clothes on our backs. And he was extremely good at doing just that since we never wanted or needed anything. On the flip side though, this also took him away from some events and experiences – all of which I’m sure he would have bent over backwards to attend.

But that was then and this is now.

Now, since we’ve gotten older and a bit more, well, appreciative of our time together, we have not only learned so much about the other but have discovered a tighter bond. A loving bond.

And so as I sit in my cubicle, reflecting on this last visit with the folks, I smile. Thankful for my mother. Thankful for my father. And thankful for some cheese and crackers with a couple shots of gin. Cheers.