I am a suburb baby. I grew up at the top of a cul-de-sac and had a milk box beside the front porch. I measured distance in time. Three minutes to the grocery store. Fifteen minutes to the city. We knew our UPS driver and mailman by name. And once, we had a friendly heard of sheep in the backyard. All three of them had escaped from the alternative preschool a block over.
But once or twice a year, my dad would pack us kids into the blue diesel suburban. We’d drive east of the mountains to the land of apple farms and alfalfa fields. We’d spend the weekend eating old-fashioned donuts and trying to get the Christmas goose.
When the weather was right and the season was late, we’d pick apples from the trees in the late afternoon. And one weekend, when we’d pushed cover and gotten a pheasant, I sat with my dad in the small shed beside the farmhouse as he cleaned the bird.
He taught me about how chickens looked before they ended up in the grocery store and how to see what a pheasant had been eating. He gave me the colorful tail feathers and let me wave them around. And at the end of the night, we ate more donuts and I felt like I was a BB gun-toting sugar princess.
My senior year of high school my dad and I had bi-weekly lunch dates. Dad would pick a fun spot around town. He’d show up in his suit and pull out my chair. And the whole thing made me feel like a grown up.
Father-Daughter Book Club
But a year or so ago, we started a new tradition — Father Daughter Book Club.
We pick a book. We pick a date. And we get together for lunch. Generally, lunch is at my house. Dad graciously brings salads. We compare notes and thoughts. (One of us may be better about finishing the book than the other. In my defense, he’s retired and I’m running a business.)
And gradually by the end of lunch, we’ve long since put the book aside and we’re talking about our latest travels and upcoming events. He generally needs help with something tech related. I ask business questions. Zeus tries to sit on Dad’s lap. It’s glorious.
Currently, we’re reading Fooled by Randomness.
If you have any recommendations, send them my way. We generally stick to business type reads. But we’d be open to other things.
Finally, how are you making time for the people who matter to you? Do you schedule lunches? Are you dropping cards in the mail? Do you have a standing walking phone date with a friend in a far away state?
It’s so easy to let the business of life get in the way of what matters most — making memories with loved ones. Don’t let time pass you by!