Hi everyone,
Today is Jeff’s birthday. We won’t be with him. Half a country separates us. We’ll talk on the phone and sing the Happy Birthday song, same as always, and wish we could be together to sing it in person. We’ll think about him a lot today and remember him as boy and man. I’ve written about Jeff and Robin over the years to capture a few favorite memories. Here’s one about Jeff from CONNECTING DOTS, written about a time when he wanted to go camp in the wild, the two of us, no girls allowed. We called the site we chose Camp Little Hatchet. The first two years we stuck to a strict policy that absolutely no girls were allowed, and that went especially for sisters and mothers. Year three, on the last night, Robin was really feeling left out and Sandy asked me on the phone if they might come down to join us. I had to use my fatherly skills to negotiate a suspension of the rules, just for one night only. Here’s how I remembered in the book.
I’m 37. For the past three years Jeff and I have traveled 50 miles to camp on Beaver Creek. Robin would love to come too. So far we’ve stuck to a strict no-girls-allowed policy.
CAMP LITTLE HATCHET GOES CO-ED
Camp Little Hatchet —
manly odors of tent and hot-dogs,
potatoes burnt to blackened shells
in a rock-circle guy-fire.
Last bastion of rugged males
hidden in weeds that would make girls cry
about snakes and spiders lurking nearby.
Butterfly nets and water skis
leaning ready against trees,
boat pulled up by masculine muscles
onto the bank.
“What do you think?”
We’re getting ready to slap steaks
thick and juicy the way guys like them
onto the grill,
“Invite the girls for the last night?”
“Never allowed girls before.
Think they’d come?”
“Don’t care if they do,
don’t care if they don’t.”
“I guess we could call.”
Our guests arrive in time to eat.
They don’t make fun,
and that’s important.
We’re glad to see them, even here.
We let them stay.
(c) 2009 David L. Harrison, all rights reserved
Fast forward to Jeff the man, the loving husband to Jennifer, son, brother; the fisherman, the hunter of clams and crabs; the chef of wondrous dishes, the tech guy, the wit, the fixer guy, the answer guy, and so much more.
Happy birthday, son. I’m proud to be your dad. I love you.
We arrived in Springfield yesterday afternoon. Two months in Florida were good but it’s always wonderful to turn into our driveway again and see Goose Lake waiting. We were blessed to have Robin and Jeff join us for the last of our stay at the condo to help make new memories. And Jeff drove all 800+ miles of the trip back to Springfield. Talk about a gift!
And thank you to everybody who took the time to send me birthday wishes. I did the best I could to keep up but if I missed thanking you, forgive me. I loved each and every one.
