We took the kids to dinner at Pizza Hut the other night. The son had been asking at least twice a week for the past month, "Can we go to Pizza Hut?" So, yesterday, there was a little extra in the food fund and hubby suggested we finally take the plunge and go. I didn't have a clear plan for dinner and there wasn't anything that just "had-to-be-cooked-tonight-or-it-will-go-bad." So we went.
We ran into some friends there that we haven't seen in a long time. The son was super-excited to see his soccer pal. So, we chatted a few minutes and then moved on to our own table and they moved on to the next thing on their schedule.
We spent a little time figuring out what everyone wanted, and then getting the kids into an activity that would keep them occupied until the food came.
And then my husband interrupted my thoughts, "What's wrong?"
I shook my head, "Nothing, why?"
"You weren't here. You were somewhere else."
"Just thinking about Dad."
There's a lot of that going on ... just thinking about Dad.
Sometimes it's flashes from the hospital. Or the second hospital. Or the third hospital. Or the hospice.
Sometimes it's memories of growing up. Or memories of being grown and sharing the memories of childhood.
Sometimes it's trying to decide, "How would Dad have responded to that?"
His birthday was yesterday.
He would have been 82.
I miss him.