How’s Your Dad Doing?

You know the ol’ adage, “Time flies when you’re trapped in suspended animation”?

Yeah … that one.

Well, that pretty much sums up my last six months since The Bevinator passed away. Rarely a day goes by that she doesn’t pop into my head or I’m reminded of her. Heck, just last week I had a significant crying jag at a kid’s birthday party because someone made Mom’s potato salad recipe. She was the glue — an integral part of our tight-knit, semi-extended family.  The Bevinator singlehandedly put the arch in matriarch.

Frankly I’m surprised the earth continues to spin on its axis without her.

Fortunately, her presence and her spirit live on in my father. They would have celebrated their 60th wedding anniversary next year. To say he misses her would be an understatement. They completed each other and had a nice little daily routine. Mom would keep Dad well fed and appropriately clothed. Mom would putz around in the kitchen. Dad would putz around outside. They would bicker and banter throughout the day. Then around 6pm, they’d both retire to their respective TVs to watch their shows. I would often tell them, “You guys act like an old married couple”, to which The Bevinator would always reply … “You should be so lucky.”

At least ten times a day, folks will ask, “How’s your Dad doing?” My answer is usually, “Better than I expected”. Oh sure, he has his good days and bad days, but, for the most part, he gets along just fine. However, I don’t think he, or anyone else, for that matter, realized just how much inane stuff Mom did around the house.

Bonding with Dad since Mom passed has been an exercise in love. He always was — and still remains — the low-key, laid-back parent. He was the calm that mellowed Mom’s melodramatics. I once told him, “I think I’m gonna cut my hair off and dye the stubble purple.” He glanced up from his paper and said, “Fine. Just don’t be late for dinner. Mom will kill you.”  Truer words have never been spoken.  Dad doesn’t ever have much to say, until he does. Then you better listen and soak it all in.

The next time you thoughtfully opt to ask me, “How’s Dad doing?”, well, instead, why don’t you give him a call and ask him yourself? He’d love to hear from you. It’s pretty quiet around Casa Mackie these days. Chances are he’ll treat you to an A&W Root Beer and show you around his perfectly manicured, luxurious yard. Or he’ll treat you to lunch at Olive Garden … but plan on getting there early. He hates to wait when he’s hungry. Speaking of hungry, props to all my friends who have graciously swung by in the last six months with some homemade grub for Dad. More than anything I think he misses Mom’s home-cooked, comfort food.

And, Lord knows, that makes two of us.

One thought on “How’s Your Dad Doing?

  1. Hey sweetie, just wanted to tell you that this is just what I needed to see today. Our situations are so similar and yet different because of the dynamic of a mom vs. a dad in the house, but so much of what you said here resonates, loud and clear. Much love, Sheri

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