If I were home today in Houston on Father’s Day, this is what it might look like:
Wake up, coffee with Dad. He makes the best brew.
Run with Dad at the park, as we are training for the Seawheeze Half Marathon with a goal to cross the finish line together.
Make Dad breakfast.
Is it noon yet for a Coor’s Light?
Rock out the pool volleyball court with the family. NOTE: Dad is ultra competitive, get out of his way.
Big tub of ice-cold Coor’s Light, his favorite on the lawn and a slab of Dad’s Special Ribs grilling in the driveway. Bliss.
Give gifts. This year he gets a pair of Vibrams. We shall see how long it takes him to put them on.
Listen to John Mellencamp rock out in the backyard and gift him a good ol’ cigar.
Then in the evening, eat dinner together off the grill and talk about how rad our Dad is.
Perfect Father’s day for a Dad who has and is raising three daughters, stands by my Mother with the most stoic and epic love I have ever experienced, does not look a day over 46 and can party like a rockstar with all of our friends.
I do say, I have a rad Dad. And I am truly grateful, appreciative and have mad respect for the man he is in my life. For giving me space, for letting me be me, and making me cry so hard that tears fall from behind both our thick glasses. For being the most radical man in the World.
I raise my Coor’s to you, Dad and love you always. Happy Father’s Day.