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Today is Thursday and I had to wait this long before I wrote about Father’s Day last Sunday, June 20th, 2010 in my blog.

Ya see, I had to contemplate everything that happened and think about what I wanted to write.

I called mama earlier in the week and asked her if she wanted to cook out for daddy for Father’s Day.  I knew she would say no, but I thought it would be nice and I wanted to make some things and take down there.

I haven’t been a welcome person in my mom’s house for years and years.  I was hoping that as they got older that would change but it hasn’t.  They still don’t want me down there.  I saw that Sunday.

My parents have had an in ground pool in their backyard for probably 15 years and I have NEVER been allowed to get in that pool.  NEVER!  I have asked and asked every summer but it has always been the same answer.  NO!  So I gave up asking.  Now let my ex husband or my brother’s whole family ask and they are down there in a heartbeat.  Heck, my brother’s family have their own floats and all for the pool down there.

At 9:30 Sunday morning, mama called and asked if I had a bathing suit.  I told her I had just gotten a new one and she said to bring it with me and I could go swimming down there.  I had my daughter and her best friend and I was scared if I asked about them that they would not let me come but she said OK.  I asked mama if she wanted me to bring us a bucket of chicken for dinner.  I just wanted to do something for my dad to make sure he had a good dinner for Father’s Day.  She said she was planning on fixing him his dinner and he had told her what he wanted for dinner.  As I was getting off the phone I heard daddy holler out for us to bring our drinks and any food we wanted.  No big deal, but in a way it was.  If we had ever brought our own food to my grandparents house, either his parents or my moms parents, they would have been hurt.  They loved fixing us stuff to eat when we came down there and I loved my grandparents cooking.  Anyway, I fixed us some bologna and cheese sandwiches, took chips, cake, crackers, and our drinks and ice in a cooler.  That was fine for us.  I even took our own paper plates and paper towels.

When we got there mama and Christi had gone to Walmart and Daddy let us in.  I didn’t get Daddy anything for Father’s Day, I wrote him a letter telling him how proud I was to be his daughter and some of the memories that I had growing up and how much I loved him.  I mean what can you get for a 78 year old man that has everything he could possibly want?  So, I thought it would be better to just write him a letter telling him my feelings.  I handed him the envelope and said, “Don’t read this until I am gone.”   I wanted him to read it alone and not in front of me.  He yelled out at me, “Don’t start it today, Debbie.”  I don’t know whether he took it the wrong way or what, maybe he thought I meant when I was dead or something.  I don’t know, but it hurt my feelings.  He was just plain grouchy that day.  Mama said he isn’t feeling good and I can understand that but it was Father’s Day and he had all of his children there and it just didn’t make him happy.  I said to him not to be so grouchy and he said, “Do you think I feel like entertaining today?”  He didn’t have to entertain us, but what if this was his last Father’s Day, God forbid, why couldn’t he be happy that he had his children there with him?

I pray that I never feel like that when my kids are around.  I am just different from them.  Maybe I am different from everyone but I remember Sunday dinners being a big thing and going to my grandparents and having a great time.  My parents never do that, they have never had Sunday dinner for their kids!!  If I could have my children with me every Sunday and have them here and us fixing dinner and eating dinner together on Sunday’s, I think I would be the happiest person in the world.   What happened to the family thing?  Did it die when my grandparents died?  Why don’t kids and their parents spend Sunday’s together anymore and eat dinner together and even go to church together and just sit around and talk and eat watermelon and let the kids play?

I was happy to be at my parents with them and my brother and his family on Sunday.  The only people that were missing was my oldest and my granddaughter and my son.   My sister-in-law suggested to my brother that they go and get a bucket of chicken and us eat while mama was fixing daddy dinner and we were all outside at the pool.  He said he didn’t want too.  Then mama said it was time for us to leave.  So we left.  I don’t understand them and I never will.  That day I felt like I was not a part of that family at all and I guess I really am not.

I have so much more to say and my thoughts are whirling in my head but I will stop here.  I will leave you with this question.  Are there families out there that spend time together on Sunday’s and still have that Sunday dinner that I used to have when I was younger?  Do you know anyone that does that?  Is the “family thing” lost in this generation?   Can we ever get it back?