This time of the year is filled with graduations, barbecues, and summer vacations. I remember as a kid driving to Chicago with my father. My parents were separated (not divorced) since I was four years old. Whatever issues or problems my mother had with my father, she never denied him visitation. I admire my mother for that and I vowed to do the same if my marriage ever became strained do to irreconcilable differences.
So, from July through mid August, my sister, brother, and I stayed with my father in Chicago. The last summer we did this, it was a true family event. My aunt with her arm baby and daughter crammed between me and my brother and sister. While some more cousins, crammed into my Uncle Albert's car. We stopped in Transylvania, Pa, and my father teased us about seeing bats. We lost my Uncle Albert somewhere enroute and reconnected with him via CB.
When we arrived in Chicago in the dead of night, we stayed with my father and his girlfriend. For the rest of the summer, we did our rounds to relatives who we haven't seen since the last visit.
I could go on and on with this story (and maybe I will in an extended essay later on) but my reason for retelling some of this story now is that Sunday is Father's Day and my father has been up in heaven for thirty one years. I just wanted to let him know I didn't forget about him.