Over the years I have insisted that my grandchildren spend Father's Day with their fathers and not to worry overmuch about the grandfather. They have been agreeable to that by and large, mostly because they really haven't had a great deal of choice in the matter. They are yet to become transportation independent.
Since Edna's death several months ago my oldest three have made a point of spending a great deal of time with me and had made it clear that they intended to spend Father's Day at gramps.
Just to back up a step or two, I have been enjoying a Father's Day brunch with my four every year since they starting escaping from our parental tenacles. And that habit continues to this day. But as soon as they had children of their own I expected them to give that day largely to the father of the young ones.
A couple weeks ago as we were gathered together, Jason (David's eldest) expressed a desire to spend the night at gramps. Susan, his mother, began to scold him saying that perhaps he spends too much time here. David intervened in his son's behalf, "Let him spend all the time he wants with his grandfather, We never had that oportunity growing up."
Daniel then piped up, "David, drop it! It's not the time."
My son's have both expressed disappointment at not having known their only grandfather over the years. David was always the more voiciferous of the two. My daughters seldom said anything on the matter, but once Cynthia expressed that she wished that she knew more of her family. My father, so far as I know, is my only living relative other than my children and grandchildren.
I anticipated some argument when I told them (back to the main story) that they would in fact spend the day with their fathers. But I had been putting off making that declaration, hoping that they would see the light before I needed to make an issue of it.
Thursday last Nathaniel came over after school, as is his habit, to mow the lawn and later the entire clan gathered here for a light supper. We grilled chicken and each family brought something to go with. This has become as much a part of our Father's Day tradition as has Sunday Brunch. As our midweek supper together is usually the last time I see the grandchildren until after school is out later the following week. As everyone was preparing to leave, the three boys informed me that they wouldn't see me until sometime next week. So I was pleased that I didn't have to make an issue of their spending Sunday with their fathers.
So, Sunday morning the four Raven brats and their aging father gathered for brunch at a small restaurant about twenty miles from here, about midway between my place and my sons' homes. As usual we enjoyed our time together, wandering down memory lane and teasing one another about this and that along the way. We agreed once again that this was the best solution to fathers day, an agreement we reach each year without fail. All too soon it was time for us to all go our separate ways and for me the day was essentially over. I thought I might spend the rest of the day lounging about on the patio or some such. I set about to do just that, anticipating an afternoon and evening of uninterupted tranquility.
Along about three in the afternoon my youngest, Bethany, stopped by to inform me that she was here to take me up to the Old House to visit Edna. I didn't even give this a second thought, I simply got ready and went along. We hadn't been there together since Memorial Day so it seem quite a natural thing to do.
When we arrived, we drove directly to the family plot thereby avoiding the house altogether. After several minutes Bethany suggested that we stop by the house and say hello to the folks, as they have no family other than each other and we consider them family. They resist being involved in family events, having been domestic staff most of their working lives. But we generally at least attempt to include them as much as possible.
When we entered the house we were immediately set upon by the entire Raven clan. I was quite taken aback, as this was not as it should have been. We chatted briefly and I was lead into the sitting room were I was to recieve my surprise.
There, sitting alone on the sofa, was my father. Now remember that I haven't seen him in over forty years and really had no desire to see him again. I looked at my two sons and they gestured with their eyes for me to continue on in. I did, but with great reluctance. I was surprised at the ease with which he rose to his feet to greet me, he is after all 94. The first thing I really noticed about him was the sparkle in his eyes that I don't remember ever having been there years ago, and the smile.
It turns out that David first made contact with my father about six years ago, but knowing my attitude has kept it secret. Shortly after Edna's death he took Daniel with him to visit his grandfather for the first time. Shortly after, all four would begin regularly visiting him without ever hinting to me that they had made contact with the old reprobate.
They have now moved him into the Old House to live out the rest of his years. They could do this because once the fuss began with their birth mother, I relinquished all control over the family estate, putting it into their hands. I didn't even need to be notified in the matter. Have I mentioned before that my family has begun to show a certain devious nature I wasn't aware existed before?
The family closed the sitting room doors and left the two of us alone for nearly an hour. At first I was quite annoyed, but as the hour passed I began to see the value of once again being with my father. I promised him that I would visit him regularly from now on. I know that it is too late to make up for lost time, but perhaps we can at least find some joy in each other in the few years he has remaining.
So My father's day gift was perhaps the best a man could ask for. I have my father back after so many years. Can I forgive him for his years of neglect and debauchery? Perhaps not, but I can try to look past it at this point in my life . At the same time, can he forgive me all the years I have denied him the joy of knowing his grandchildren and great grandchildren? I doubt it. I could not imagine not having known mine. We may never be close, but we can at least accept each other's existence and share the love of our progeny.
