It’s St. Patrick’s Day, but for me, it’s a bit more like Thanksgiving.
As I took off this morning in Cruiser 980, I couldn’t help but think of what a year it’s been. In September, I gained a son. In December, I almost lost a father.
The father of which I speak is proud of a number of things, one of which is his Irish heritage. He even sings an Irish lullabye to my wide-eyed son, who hangs intently on every word, and then drools a little.
It’s no secret to anyone who knows me that my dad is a big part of my life. We talk as often as we can, share of sense of humor one could only describe as odd, and have become great friends as time has passed.
That said, you can imagine what our family went through when we learned that Dad was in congenital heart failure just before Christmas. It was like watching your hero start to fade in the distance. I can remember looking at my young son while Dad was in surgery, wondering if he’d ever have a chance to get to know his grandfather.
Thanks to the wonders of modern medicine, and good people at Overland Park Regional Medical Center, Dad is still with us today. He’s no doubt wearing his “Instant Irish” t-shirt and probably watching an episode or two of “Bonanza”. If all goes well, he’ll be back to work next month.
So, as I said, today is more like Thanksgiving for my family and I. Thankful for dad, or grandad, and that he’s still here to make us all smile.
Your star still shines, Dad. And for right now, it still shines here.