I have a confession that will not come as a shock to some of you. I  view the past with what some would call unhealthy sentimentality. Don’t fault me….I come by it honestly. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree and in this instance the mighty tree is my father. As children, we drove him crazy. As in forehead veins bulging crazy. As an only child my father was less than prepared for the volume and high speed playing, battling, arguing that existed in a house with three offspring. Don’t misunderstand. He was/is an amazing dad. He’s loving, kind, and an incredible instructor with focus on what is worthwhile and noble.

But I remember several times in my childhood when I was certain his head was going to explode off his body from frustration over something one of us had done.

Flash forward thirty years and my father will see kids acting out in restaurant, turn to my mother and say, “I don’t EVER remember our kids acting like that. Ahh, those were great times. Our kids were so good….” My dear mother typically rolls her eyes and mutters something about his ability to rewrite history. If she’s really feeling spunky she’ll tell the barbecue story. Continue reading →