#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream

Dusty, Karen, me and my father. Mother in the window

Father’s Day cloudy and cool. Frank up early, brings me my coffee in bed! Then I remember it’s his day. But he doesn’t mind. I am still finalizing my AWP proposal. Almost done. I went for my swim, a mile at Kingsbury, and then did yard work. Raking, trimming, weeding, cutting overgrown brush. I’m glad Frank pulled in and talked to me where I was working on the driveway. It broke the spell. We went and grabbed a bite for lunch and bought two chairs for the deck outside our bedroom. Got home and he finished some painting on the deck while I wrote a poem. (He kept interrupting me for help, but I didn’t mind. Just glad he took the project on.) Two of the three kids for dinner, which Frank and I cooked. A lingering meal, great conversation and appreciation of Frank. Then a stroll around the yard, the grove, to the river, the garden after dinner as dusk came on and the mosquitos came out. Of course I thought about my dad today too. At dinner my daughter said to her father that he reminds her of my father. Wave home tomorrow. But his ears must be burning as we talked a lot about him too at dinner, and imagined what he would say to his Papa if he were home.