A Day, A Weekend, A Father

Sometimes the old brain is too full to process what it has stored. Today is one of those days. A high school reunion, the wedding of a dear friend's son and now Father's Day have all run together this weekend to create a mass of memories, thoughts and impressions. Should I write about dancing last night with people I haven't seen in decades? Or the tears that surprised me as I watched Jean's son kiss his bride?

A second ago I showed my dad photos of his father that my cousin had posted on Facebook. The kitchen of my Dad's boyhood home on Idlewild Court — a home we're about to see on a sentimental journey through the streets of Dad's past — came alive again in one of those pictures.

The multiple layers of meaning in that event — layers of nostalgia, wonder and mystery — are about as close to depicting this weekend as I can muster.