Sometimes you’d never know I have two degrees in communication.
This past weekend my parents were in town. I was teaching a class at church, so instead of driving to their home to visit my dad for Father’s Day, they came to see me.
My mother is 89 and has severe arthritis, so it makes it difficult for her to get up and around in the mornings in time to go to church. Our plan was – or so I thought – for me to go and teach my class and then come home, instead of staying for church.
So I did.
Only when I got home, my mother informed me that my dad had gone to church.
Somewhere along the way I missed this part of the plan.
I envisioned my dad trying to find me in that sea of people.
A text message was out of the question for many reasons, least of which was the fact that his cell phone was still on the coffee table in my living room.
I got back in the car and drove across town to find him.
After all, it was Father’s Day.
When I got there, a friend had actually spotted him going in the auditorium. I stood at the back for about ten minutes scanning a packed house of at least a thousand, looking for a white head.
And there he was. On the back row. On the aisle. Sitting next to some foreign exchange students.
I squatted down beside him in the aisle to let him know I was there, and it didn’t matter anymore that we’d gotten our wires crossed about the plan that morning.
I sat down in a vacant seat across the aisle.
Made me think of lots of times sitting right next to him at church, with a great cavern between us.
But today it was just an aisle.