Well the weather forecasters predicted a gully washer last night and again this morning. I got up early anyway and did my housework that had languished since last weekend. Unfortunately, the weatherman only got the forecast half-right and when I took my garbage out at 7:45 a.m., the sun was peeking through the clouds and I could have walked. Oops!!! Well, life is full of coulda/shoulda/woulda events – this was one of them. It is only fitting that it rained for Father’s Day because it rained for Mother’s Day, so what is good for the goose is good for the gander. I thought about that little phrase when I heard the rain pittering-pattering on my patio roof very early this morning. It may have been a soggy early a.m. breakfast at the pancake house with Dad but I think the afternoon eventually was salvaged for brats and burgers in the backyard. I intended all along to write a walking post that incorporated Father’s Day into the commentary, but when I didn’t walk, I decided not to lambaste my father any further in this forum, since I already said how I felt earlier this week on the occasion of what would have been their 60th wedding anniversary. Perhaps next year – it will be thirty years in May since I last saw him – perhaps I will recognize that anniversary. For me, there is no angst or sadness with Father’s Day like with Mother’s Day. Weeks before Mother’s Day, there is a constant barrage of radio ads of what to buy mom, or just walking through the store you cannot help but see cards and cakes for mom. Well, when there no mom to buy for, it causes some heartache – sometimes, there is a lump in your throat but you have to gulp, swallow hard and carry on. I was never remiss in showing my mom how I loved her while she was alive so I am buoyed by any good times and memories we had together. Before getting too maudlin, I will share how Father’s Day was celebrated in our house after the departure of Max Schaub. I decided my mom would fill the shoes of both parents, so every year I went to Hallmark and bought her a Father’s Day card with the word “Father” xxxx’d out and “Mother” scrawled over in its place. She got a present wrapped in masculine wrapping paper and a festive cake tailored to “Dad” … we always made sure to go out for lunch as well on Father’s Day. So, I wasn’t Daddy’s little girl anymore but I sure as h*ll got over it. Cheers to the fathers who have created cherished memories for their children and for their evergreen wisdom once they leave the nest, significant character flaws for the man whom I called my father … ‘nuff said.