The Good Doctor’s Father’s Day Reflections

My Father’s Day event was just terrific. Yeah, I know I griped about the whole Father’s Day thing on here last week, but I gripe about anything I think doesn’t fit my twisted view on how things SHOULD be. Then, this or that thing actually comes my way and I realize that I’m a dope. And, this weekend only cemented that fact, as my newly blossoming family sat around and hung out all together in my honor. What? They all came over for me? What?

My wife and I sat smiling, as my son and his wife, and my daughter and her husband munched hot dogs and burgers and laughed and chatted. I said to my wonderful wife, “Look at our new family. This is cool.” And it was…very cool. Well, not cool like watching a group of sharks ripping up a swimmer cool. Cool like in sweet-cool.

I had become – seemingly overnight and without me realizing it, the capo d tutti capo of the Palumbo family. Almost. Pop is still alive. And although he lives in his own dementia dream world, factually he is still the boss of bosses. But that is all nonsense, cause I don’t want to be the boss of anything. The real smitten – Hallmark card moment – the one that hit me like a Nolan Ryan fast-ball to the noggin, was simply observing the movement of this life. Change, usually the thing that strikes terror into our Limbic systems, had gifted me with even more blessings than I already have been over-laden with. And there is more to come. Under the glass top umbrella covered table, and popping like a melon, was my son’s wife’s belly. Yep, I’m going to be a grandfather. Little Carlos Ruiz Palumbo (my name, not theirs) is scheduled to arrive sometime in October.

When everyone finally left, I spent the remainder of the evening chastising myself for being such a selfish, self serving, spoiled buffoon. A whiner. A childish child, childly looking at life to toss me the next entertaining thing I could be distracted by. Distracted! From this? From what only be described as a perfectly wonderful life?

If I believed in religion, I would seek out some priest or minister and ask him to send a message to God for me, apologizing for my ignorance and promising to do better. But, I don’t, so I will have to go directly to him – God, I mean, and prostrate myself. Just when you think you got it all figured out, here comes another lesson on how truly clueless you are.