Barbara J. Hamby

Father’s Day Feelings

My father has been gone for twenty-three years now and I am sad to reflect that, on this Father’s Day, neither of my children has a living father to celebrate with.

We had brunch with all of Floyd’s children and grandchildren who live in this area, and he talked by phone with his two out-of-town sons. He played golf with several of his family members in the afternoon. He got home just in time to see the finish of the U.S. Open and then watch basketball—a perfect day for him.

The weather was perfect—neither too hot nor too cold. We should have a day or so more of good weather, then it will cool some, and probably rain before the weekend, but that’s good for the flowers. Maybe it will stay warm enough for our outdoor pools to open this week.

After the big brunch, I didn’t have much ambition this afternoon, so I napped and watched part of the golf tournament, in between reading and writing email. I finished the novel I was reading, also, and I’m ready to start a Dean Koontz book.

I’ll soon be headed for the pool and hope that gives me enough energy to get through the rest of the evening