Happy Father’s Day, Daddy; will my Dad read The Recovering Attorney Un-Blog(tm) or will I have to buy a Father’s Day Card?

I am one of the lucky ones.  As a woman in her mid-forties, I am fortunate and blessed to have a Daddy that is not only alive AND well, but a Daddy who is a meaningful part of my yesterdays, todays and my tomorrows.

 He lives within 15 miles of my home and my life.  And on any given evening my doorbell will chime and I (as well as my neighbors) will hear either cool, classic jazz or the inquisitive voice of Terry Gross of NPR proclaiming loudly his arrival from his precisely balanced ( treble/bass) car radio. When I hear that radio, I revert back to that little girl of five and I sing quietly in my head—“Daddy’s home!” In fact I hear a symphony of familial love when I hear that doorbell chime:  First,  the beautiful notes of the bells chiming,  Precious Child II giddily yelping “It’s Grandpa, it’s grandpa,”  The Dog , when he  is in the backyard (better known as The Dog’s 2 acre private dog-run), barking with joy at the sight of my father, and of course, my father’s car radio!   

After Precious Child II has received her big hug and kiss from Grandpa, after The Dog has been admonished to stop jumping on my Dad while simultaneously receiving his big hug from Grandpa, after Precious Child I has emerged ( he’s home from college for the summer so our home is once again full with young adult hubris.  Ha!) from the terrace level to say in his cool voice–” ‘sup Grandpa” and given his big hug and after Mr. Recovering Attorney has warmly received his hug from one of his best friends, my Dad (how great is that!), my Dad will finally turn his attention to me, his only daughter, and say–“How can I forget to say hello to my daughter?”  And my big hug and kiss will immediately follow.  It’s our routine.  Our groove.  And it never, ever gets old! 

Once firmly inside  (with Precious Children I & II having retreated to their respective places of solace, smart phones and lap tops), my Dad will join Mr. Recovering Attorney and me in the keeping room and we will catch up on all things political, social or just plain silly that occurred during the past week.  Think  the roundtable on Meet the Press  only with louder voices, no patiently waiting your turn to speak, conspiracy theories, elder wisdom and intellect, love, respect and absolutely no commercial breaks!  We can go for an hour before realizing that the stars are visible, The Dog has finally settled down at my Dad’s feet and we have explored, dissected, and discussed  All Things Considered!

My Dad, Mr. Recovering Attorney and I really enjoy the casual time that we spend together in my home…the gatherings are so powerful and full that these unscripted “meet-ups” are almost beginning to supplant my childhood memories of “Daddy and me” outings to Greenwich Village for Greek and Italian dinners, and seafood on City Island, the Jazz Mobile at Grant’s Tomb,  observing the chess players in Washington Square Park; boutique shopping on 8th street in the Village, and being the first in line to see Star Wars;   soul food dinners at Harlem’s famous Copeland’s and Wilson’s restaurants, and driving to Pennsylvania Dutch country for farm fresh dinner and produce; coming out of middle school on a hot spring day to have my Daddy, unannounced, parked at the curb with the top dropped and whisking me off to the Village for a “slice” at the original Ray’s Pizza, learning to play golf at the age of four (Tiger Woods’ dad had nothing on my father.  Ha!) in our spacious living room in our Harlem home, or just watching the ships sail on the Hudson River at the 72nd street Boat Basin on the West Side Highway……..

As you can tell, I can wax poetically about my Daddy.  He’s my favorite Daddy, my only Daddy and I am very fortunate and blessed…..Happy Father’s Day, Daddy.  I am truly one of the lucky ones.  Here’s hoping Dear Readers that you are one of the lucky ones, too!

COPYRIGHT 2011.  The Recovering Attorney Un-Blog(tm).  All Rights Reserved.  And I will sue.  Ha!

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