Father's Day Weekend
We had quite a busy weekend.
Originally, I'd planned a going away weekend for a friend who's moving to Alaska. We'd planned winetasting, food at the local vietnamese fusion joint, and a girls' day at the spa.
But, that plan was cut short when a member of her SO's family passed away of cancer.
Talk about hitting home.
I did my best to regroup. I sent out an email to the portion of the crew that were my friends and asked if we could still meet up, still winetaste, still do girls' day at the spa.
All but 1 obliged me. On Friday, I found out that the one who didn't respond was silent only because of my idiocy and sending the invitation to the wrong email address. Saturday night, she even tried to join us last minute. It was not to be, but she made the effort.
So, instead of moping, I spent the weekend visiting amazing amazing local wineries with friends. I went to the spa and got a facial. I ate entirely too much imported prosciutto, imported cheese, and local salame. Not to mention more than my share of vino, chocolate, fruit, etc.
Despite the weekend of sensorial indulgence, when E called his dad, to wish him a happy father's day, it hurt. Not all consuming. But pain, none-the-less. Like jealousy, but milder. No hatred, just the even-keeled stretching pain of sadness that you know you can't avoid.
So, I called my bro. He told me that he'd spent the day with my niece watching movies. She loves Rambo. That was just like Dad. When we were kids, we thought he was cool because he'd let us see any violent film we wanted. Of course, he'd pause the movie and send us out of the room for anything remotely bordering on sex. I called sister to laugh at Dad's movie ridiculousness and left her a message.
Plus, dad's sister sent me an email. Dad's other sister had left me voicemail on Friday. The entire family really reached out to one another to support each other this day, as we should have. And, yet, instead of gratitude, all I could think was...Silly dad. Didn't he know we could see the kissing from behind the couch when we snuck back in?
Also, E was amazing. After he called his parents, when I completely changed the plan for the evening and turned into a moping child, he willingly installed a curtain rod and hung curtains in the guest room in response to my odd request.
Because all of a sudden, I wanted big household jobs to be done with tools that made noise. The drilling noise. Somehow, it made me feel better. I couldn't go to the grave, but through E, I could bring drilling to me. It assured me that dad knew I missed him and wished him a happy father's day.
Silly, but true.
And, even sillier, but I'm going to go watch a "chick flick" to cap off my day. I'm not sure how that fits in. But, who am I to resist?
E2 left artisanal chocolate too... mmm....