Saturday, January 05, 2008


“Cavorting!” … This is the word that proclaimed itself to my mind in the instant of my awakening. And that is what Dad and I had just been doing. Then I awoke … and had the immediate realization ... “Dad is dead!” (for this is, in truth, the fact.) Yet I was stilled for a moment by the suddenness of my recollection. What I had just been enjoying was something that had never been a reality for Dad and me … “cavorting together” … though he and I had a long-running, tacit agreement that we would have loved to.

The closest that we ever came was on that Thanksgiving Day, some years ago, when I showed up, at the home that he and Mom shared, with the promised Thanksgiving feast purchased from a restaurant. All of the side dishes were prepared and ready. All that was required (as I now recall) was the baking of the turkey that the restaurant had made ready in a pan.

Given the fact that a span of a few hours was needed for the roasting of “the bird”, Dad and I obtained the reluctant approval, from Mom (who did not like the idea of participating in an excursion just for the joy of it), for the two of us to set out on an exploratory drive in my new Jeep Cherokee. So … off we went. And I do not remember having ever seen Dad have such a child-like delight in an adventure. Lighthearted laughter and freedom of spirit were our companions.

We drove to a spot that had a view over the Bay to the flashing light of what remains of the Egmont Key Lighthouse where his Dad (my Grandfather) had served as Assistant Lighthouse Keeper in Dad’s youth. We read the inscription on the memorial to the sailors lost in the sinking of a Coast Guard ship … whilst savoring the distinct aromas of the head-waters of the Bay. We treated ourselves to some silly snacks from vending machines (something that Dad had always considered an expense far beyond rational reason.) I showed him new avenues of travel made possible by the construction of bridges and roadways that he had no idea existed. And we arrived back home later than Mom had allowed was considerate of her.

As I spoke with Dad through the open window of the Jeep, upon taking my leave and subsequent to a very miserable evening of strained submission to an air of guilt and reproof, Dad said only “I’ll never do that again!” And, of course, we never did.

But we did cavort! Just that once. But it was enough for me to have a recollection, just now, of how wonderful it was.

I miss you Dad. (And I miss all of the cavorting that we never did.)

[Definition: “Cavort”/ To act or behave in a jovial and exuberant fashion. ]


Merelyme said...

hello there friend! what a wonderful genuine and heartfelt post this is. i am glad you are sharing more of yourself here. i have a new blog...stop by any time.

John-Michael said...

Enchanted! This is my state as I permitted myself to rest in the gentle presence of your image’s allure coupled with the workings of your mind (as revealed in your blog … I thank you for the invitation.) How very generous and kind of you to spend a moment with me. To know each other as Friends is one of Life’s gifts. I am complimented.

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