Happy Father’s Day. I don’t do anything for Father’s Day now. My Dad has been gone for 40 years. My closest Uncles, who were like Dads to me, are all gone too. Face it, I’m getting too old to expect my elders to still be here for me. What?! I’m an elder now?!
Oh, myyy.

Well, I’m going to indulge myself for just awhile today and recall one of my fondest memories of time spent with my Dad. His work took him away a lot, so weekends were very special when he was home. We would go to museums or Central Park for the zoo or carousel. I’d roller skate or we’d ride our bikes. Sometimes there was a street fair nearby. There was always something fun to do. Fun because no matter what it was, I was with my Dad.

Each of these weekends started off with Pillsbury biscuits, sectioned grapefruits and tea with milk and sugar. Making those biscuits was so much fun. Peel the outer label off, twist and POP, the can opens to reveal perfectly soft and scrumptious dough cut into round biscuit shapes ready to bake.
Of course, we all know that at least one of those unbaked biscuits had to be sacrificed for taste testing. There was so much anticipation waiting for those biscuits to be done. We didn’t have a window front in our oven, so opening the door when the timer went off was like revealing a miracle. Look how they had risen! Yay, science!

So, with the biscuits warm from the oven, we sat down at our sidewalk café type of table and chairs. I enjoyed peeling the layers off those biscuits and slathering them with butter and jam. YUM! My Dad was an expert at sectioning grapefruit, and he somehow always picked the sweetest one from the grocery store too. Ahhhh, the tea is sweetened just right. I can recall looking out the window next to the table. The light coming into the room through that window was soft and warming. From that window I could look out on the park across the street and downtown Manhattan. I have that view seared into my memory. It was a view that I cast many hopes and daydreams upon. Wondering where my place would be in the world outside my Dad’s protective eye.
That’s getting too deep. I want to keep this memory light and happy. Just as it was. Spending the weekend mornings having biscuits with Dad.