A very special Father’s Day

My parents got divorced when I was 10 years old. We were living in suburban Chicago at the time. My father stayed in the Midwest, while my mother packed up four young children, two dogs and a cage full of caterpillars and moved east to New York State to begin the rest of our lives.

That was 44 years ago. My siblings and I ultimately settled on the east coast, got married, and had seven children among us. My father remarried and moved around a lot, but never made it father east than Missouri.

My stepmother Angie passed away last fall, after which Dad moved to the east coast to be closer to his children and grandchildren. For the first time in years we celebrated Thanksgiving together.  For the first time in years, we sat around the same Christmas tree.

And, the first time in 44 years, my siblings and I are spending Father’s Day with our father.

I hope that your Father’s Day is equally special.

Sitting with my Dad: (L-R, also youngest to oldest) Mindy, me, Chris and Greg