Dinner
Dads are on my mind with Father’s Day approaching. Unfortunately, I don’t live close to my dad, and won’t see him on this special Sunday. His birthday is in a couple of weeks, so I gave him the choice of Father’s Day or his birthday. He chose his birthday because, and I quote, “I’m a father everyday. I don’t need a special day to celebrate it.”My dad was very involved in his children’s lives. This was somewhat unusual for the 50s and early 60s. He played with us, drove us to our activities, and knew all the other dads in the neighborhood, if not in the town. He was home every night for dinner at five.He’d walk through the door, and we run up to him throw ourselves all over his legs, as he tried to settle in for the evening. The first thing from him was, “What did you do today?”Dinner was always the time we shared our busy day. We’d gossip, tattle on each other, and just talk about life. Nightly dinners were a learning experience. We asked questions, fought for dad’s attention and listened to him talk, as he answered our questions, and asked us just as many.Dinner was dad time, because when it ended he watched the news, read the newspaper, and visited with my mom. We were off to do homework with dad’s support, and then the tub and in bed. It was so routine, that when I left home, I all but followed the same pattern, feeling a little lost when I didn’t. And of course I missed my parents, but I really missed dad walking through the door.I hear on the news the family dinner is dying away. Fast food makes it convenient to stop and feed the kids in the car on the way home. I often see it in my own children lives as they struggle to work, commute, and make ends-meet. That with busy lives we don’t take the time to sit down and share a meal with each other, and discuss the adventures of the day.Even now with children gone, my husband and I sit and have dinner together as often as we can, to share our day and learn from each other. When the grandkids are at our house and Poppy walks through the door, I hear the squeals of delight as my grandchildren clamor around his legs, fighting for attention and ready to share their adventures. Its reminiscent of days when I did the same, only now it’s Poppy they run to. Its such a simple action, these expressions of love, that will last a life time. It leaves fingerprints on the soul that can never be erased.When I visit my dad now, I make sure I cook a few meals for him, so we can sit at the table and talk. Its often hard because my mother is no longer with us and we miss her presence. As I set the table, chat with my dad, I feel her approval for keeping an old tradition going, for taking time with my dad. Once the food hits the table, its my time with dad. As we talk about old memories, politics and life in general, once again, I’m learning as my dad answers my questions, and he ask just as many.Question of the day: What was your time with your dad, or how does your childrens dad spend time with the kids.
June 13th, 2008
Lee 
in
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June 13th, 2008 at 8:10 am
I grew up in a different era. Everyone had dinner together only it was called “Supper” back then. I spent a lot of time with my Father as I worked outside with him. He was disabled and couldn’t do a lot so he needed a helper. I was it. He was always there for us and helped us when he could. He didn’t have a lot of education so he always felt bad he could’t help with homework. He passed away when I was 15 and I still feel the loss. My husband was like your Father. We also had dinner with all of us there, talking and laughing and sharing. My son and son-in-law are the same. My son is a paramedic and works 24 hour shifts so he is only home every other day. That is spent with his daughter. My son-in-law is career military and unless he is deployed, dinner is a family affair. My grandsons have never had dinner in front of the TV. They have been traveling to CA for a new station but stopped every night for dinner. They never eat without saying their blessing either. I bet you couldn’t tell that I am proud of my family. I like to think we gave them a good example to follow and they have. Have a great day and hugs to all.
June 13th, 2008 at 8:18 am
You have every reason to be so proud. When I’m with my kids, we all sit and have dinner at the table. When I’m not there, I know its more hectic, and doesn’t always get done. Its such an important part of our life, and time to communicate. When I was little we called it supper. In CA, its called dinner.
June 13th, 2008 at 8:57 am
I can’t tell you how much I love this post. I grew up pretty much the same way. My father wasn’t much with words, and he and I don’t always have a whole lot to say to each other conversationally now because we’re so very different (or actually my mom would say exactly alike in mind, just different generations), but we’re still tight knit with a lot of love. We had supper at 6pm every evening, which was when Dad came home. Mom worked too (with Dad), but she came home around four o’clock to get the meal started and us kids rounded up. I hate that some kids aren’t getting to experience such a strong family routine like that. I still do the same things myself even though I live alone.
Those roots are so strong for me. And I thank my father everyday in my heart for giving me that.
I’m cooking catfish for my Dad on Sunday. It’s one of his favorite things, and my Mom refuses to cook it because she hates fish. So that’s always my Father’s Day present to him.
June 13th, 2008 at 9:59 am
Lovely post, Lee. Routine and dinner together was exactly how our family was structured, too, and I try hard to continue that with my own kids. Dinnertime is when you reconnect and we’d always wait until my dad got home, usually around 7 p.m., before we all sat down to eat. That was really the only time we had his full attention during those growing up years. He traveled a lot and worked a lot so that dinner time was special.
My thoughts of my dad are more about the present, or since my adulthood. I distinctly remember him telling me that he would always be my dad, but that I was grown up now and he would be my friend more than my parent. And he has been. He’s always there for me, and my brothers, but he also stepped back and let us blossom.
June 13th, 2008 at 10:25 am
I love hearing how so many people have grown up this way with there dad’s, it gives us such a strong foundation of love. My dad will always be my dad, and I’ll always be daddy’s girl.
June 13th, 2008 at 6:56 pm
When I was growing up my dad worked the swing shift, he was like a ghostly presence in our house, the man to worry about ‘when he got home’. Sometimes his car would pass me as I was walking home from school and he would honk and I would wave. If he was a little ahead of schedule he would pick me up, ask about my day, and drop me off at home. Weekends were family time and every Sunday was a great big Sunday dinner with placemats, napkins, and nice clothes. My children have been blessed with a wonderful dad and I make darn sure they know it. He has always been there for them and always will.
June 13th, 2008 at 10:02 pm
One of my first memories of my dad is him teaching me how to waltz. We danced over all the floors in the house constantly and still do today when I go back home. Makes me smile to see him carrying on the tradition with my tiny nieces!
Great post, Lee!