For most people who celebrate March 17th, the day is St. Patrick's Day. I swear, I see green everywhere. Even on the number and icons on blogspot. Weren't they blue yesterday? But I have different thoughts on March 17th.
My father died 8 years ago in January. His birthday was March 17th. I treasure many memories of my dad. He was generous, creative, a loving father and husband, a good friend. In the last 10 years of his life, as he developed new hobbies (building scale model live steam engines) he gathered to himself a circle of treasured friends. They gathered every Thursday morning in my dad's elaborate workshop to work on individual and group projects. They learned from each other, helped each other, laughed and joked together, and when my dad got sick, helped him to see his final project through to completion. Soon after he died, my mom let the "guys" know that they were welcome to continue coming every Thursday, and they did. My mom continued to make sure there was soda in the fridge and lunch fixings in the freezer, and the guys responded by letting in servicemen, watching out for the house, and making sure that she was included in club activities.
Today is my father's birthday. As I have done for the last 8 years, I placed a call to my mom this morning. Until today, she was always in the office, and that's where I reached her. Today I called home since she retired December 31st. It seems fitting that I didn't reach my mom, she had gone out. One of my dad's friends answered the phone. The "guys" still come every Thursday. I'm glad.
