Just Dad.

Took dad for a drive around the lake yesterday, hoping his favourite place for a bite to eat in Bala would be open.  It wasn't, and we proceed on undeterred.  After considering Tapps in Port Carling, he decided Father's Day for him would be just as good at Swiss Chalet in Bracebridge.  That's my dad.

It was a beautiful day, but a little early for much wildlife, so after the turtle rescue in Torrance (Tam stopped and helped a poor fella get across busy 169), Dad pulled out his ever-present crossword puzzle and we set about trying to fill in some of the stumpers.  (Mom rides up front and Tam usually drives on these little outings, so Dad & I had the backseat to ourselves for crossword pursuits).

Dad always has a puzzle or two on him, tucked in his shirt pocket along with a passel of papers with names, phone numbers, appointments and reminders.  And a pen.  A necktie is a requisite as well.  We've seen him mow the lawn wearing a tie.  He sat in the back seat with a pale blue tie clipped against a crisp dark blue shirt and his shades on and I was struck once again how much he looks like a retired cop.

Later, as we sat in Swiss Chalet chatting and enjoying our dinner, I watched his hands as he talked.  They looked large on his thinning arms, heavy and gnarled, and I could see the spectre of age lurking near.

It struck me that a franchised chicken dinner and a crossword puzzle was exactly how I wanted to spend this Father's Day.  It may not sound like much, but in that moment, it was perfect.