What Dad Would Say
My Father, Don, is quietly sitting at his kitchen table, figuring out the electoral votes. He has it down to a science. After all, Don has been analyzing election data, on a yellow legal pad, using a black felt tip pen, for many, many years.
Don is shaking his head. What is there to say? What has happened to our country? Don shares his thoughts and feelings with his elected officials, state and federal, and he does not mince words! Don is currently stumped at his inability to put words on paper.
Don has spawned a legacy, a vibrant triad of strong, smart, athletic boys, with brains in their heads, and feet in their shoes. What would Don say to these boys? Don is looking up from his kitchen table, he rubs his eyes, puts his glasses back on, and tells the youngest of the triad, the youngest of the “My Three Sons” of his one son, a four year old blonde spitfire. This child knows nothing of the current day events. Well, Don starts, the Cubs did win the World Series last week, first time in 108 years, Halloween is over, and it is now Fall. Don tells this young boy not to worry, it is going to be o.k. As an 86 year old, Don may know a thing or two.
Don sits the two oldest boys down, at said kitchen table. Don explains the Electoral College to the fifth grader and the fourth grader, using diagrams, probing for insights and questions. The world according to Don is black and white, good versus evil, a printer’s love of color and texture. The boys may feel confused. Why is everything up in the air? Don diagrams his thoughts and opinions down to whatever set of specifics suits his fancy. The boys wonder why their paternal grandfather takes the time to do this task. He isn’t using a computer! He is using yellow paper! He even uses a pen!
All three boys come away with a positive feeling, the same memory that my brother and I do share. Don cares. Don cares deeply! In 2000, Don knew Bush would win. Don told us WEEKS ahead of time, sending each of us hand-written copies of his detailed analysis.
Don does not only send information on presidential elections. Don reads voraciously. Don mails articles, through the U.S. Postal Service, several at a time, to make sure my brother and I remain up to date on whatever is important for us to know.
What would Don say? Don would say chin up people, vote. Don would cite history; World War II, for certain, Macheavelli, Sun Tzu, and perhaps even the Chicago Cubs. Don would talk strategy and end game, freedom and peace, a beautiful ramble from a beautiful mind.
Don is a ghost now, his body and spirit left us suddenly in 2009. Don’s spirit lives on, however, and he is still sitting at the kitchen table, using the black felt tip pen, to figure it all out, sailor hat on his head, pipe precariously perched out the corner of his mouth. Remember, he would tell the three young boys, the “My Three Sons” of his one son, always vote.
