Field of Dreams, Part One

After we went to the game (see next entry) Kelsey and I watched the old Kevin Costner movie "Field of Dreams." I felt I owed it to her. There are just some movies everyone in America should see. That's definitely one of them (feel free to list others in the comments, too, but maybe that's another blog entry).

Anyway, for some strange reason, last night I didn't get sucked in by the baseball sentimentality as I usually do. Nope, this time I got sucked in by the desire to "finish" things with my dad.

We never split on bad terms...we had a great relationship. We just split too fast. He died when I was 13.

And this morning, I'd really like to "have a catch" with my dad.

I'd tell him about graduating from the same college he did...and walking in a lot of the footprints he put there.
I'd introduce him to the absolutely coolest girl I ever met and then married and ask him what he thought of her. I'd really be interested in his opinion, too.
I'd ask him what he thought of my life and career decisions and get some of his thoughts that I never got to get because I was only 13 and some discussions only really matter when you're closer to adulthood.
I'd ask him about what he thought of my sister's "higher order life-living." Not that I'm curious because I truly KNOW what he'd think about her life. Nope, I'd ask because I want to see the gleam in his eye, just one more time, that he always got when he looked at her. And see that gleam through my eyes of fatherhood.
I'd ask him a few things about his relationship with Mom, and then I'd get some dirt on the rest of the family while I was at it, too.

Then, I'd flip the ball to my daughters. I'd introduce them, tell him to tell them the fish story (a previous blog) and then let Kelsey play catch with him while Shelby did cartwheels and other dance maneuvers around the two of them. I'd watch from the wooden bleachers.

That would be my field of dreams today. One more game of catch with my dad.