Only two days before the Big Day, I got a text from a daughter-in-law: "May we join you for Father's Day?" By the following day, it was a party: Our two youngest sons and their families, including eight children age nine and younger, were all coming to our house for the big celebration. I had bought a rack of ribs for the slow cooker and planned a simple meal. With the locusts about to descend, I picked up a second rack of ribs, planned more food, and asked both daughters-in-law to load up.
We ended up with more than we could possibly eat. Two full sets of Kansas City Rub pork ribs, slow-cooked all day, were enough to go around. Then the dil's added baked beans, cheesy potatoes in another slow cooker, green salad, and three desserts. I brought out a pan of fresh yeast rolls and several bottles of homemade jam. We ate. And ate. And ate some more. At the end of all that eating, we got out the dessert, complete with five different containers of ice cream (everyone brought some) to add to the peach cobbler, fresh cherry pie, and apple crisp the kids brought along.
Little people played games in the yard and tested one another on Grandpa's new exercise machine, terrorized the cat until he hid for his life, and alternated between wild laughter and hysterical sobbing--rather expected among those five and younger. Grown-ups talked business, child rearing, weather, food and more food, and eventually took a short tour of one son's new office building, soon to be completed here in town.
In short, it was a joyous family occasion. If my dad had been here, it might have been perfect. Dad loved nothing better than getting the family together. He adored little people and was especially good with babies. The craziness when they all started crying and accusing one another of being unfair would have bothered him (it bothered me!), but he'd have been the first to step up to soothe Evie's bumped knee or coo soothing songs to baby Ian.
I loved having the gang together. I liked seeing my husband in the midst of his progeny, honored by those who love him. I missed my father. It's the kind of Father's Day I am learning to enjoy. I expect to have many more of them in years to come.
