Page 132 of As the Years Pass

“You don’t have to thank me, Dad.”

“Your mother would have loved this.”

He puts his arm around me, and we look out at the space we rented for her Celebration of Life party.

It’s nearly Christmas, and we went with a sort of Winter Wonderland theme.

Mom loved Christmas, but always preferred the blue and silver theme over the red and green, so that’s what we chose. There are photos all over the walls. Hundreds of them. Familyphotos of just us, stuff with her and my dad, and plenty of them with the kids they fostered through the years.

“It’ll be a good turn out,” I say.

“I sure hope so, son.”

“It will be,” I say firmly.

The door opens, and I look over my shoulder. Adam walks in, giving me a smile.

“Adam,” my father greets, letting go of me and going to him. He wraps him in a tight hug. “How are you?”

“I’m great, Mr. Durant. How are you?”

He shrugs. “Good as can be.”

“I’m glad to hear it. It’s so nice to see you.”

“It’s nice to see you, too, especially doing so well.”

I walk over to them. “People will probably start showing up in about thirty minutes. Is there anything else we need to do?”

They both look around the room, and no one can think of anything else we need to do to set up. So we walk over to the bar and have a drink.

“This is so nice,” my father says. “Getting old sucks, but seeing you boys all grown up… being able to have a drink with you?” He chuckles before bringing the bottle to his lips and taking a sip. “It’s real nice.”

“I’m glad you think so, Dad, because we were thinking.” I give Adam a smile.

“Oh? Is that what I smell?” He laughs, and I roll my eyes, but Adam chuckles too, so I give him a little shove.

“We’d like to take the kids to Florida to visit you sometime. Maybe when school is done.”

My father’s eyes shine brightly, getting a little glossy. He ducks his head and shakes it. “Nothing would make me happier.”

When people start to show, we mingle and catch up with people we haven’t seen in years. Adam hardly knows anyone here, and I remember most of them, but my father? He remembers every single one of the boys who walks through that door. He greets them all by name, hugs them all, and asks about their life.

It is by far one of the sweetest things I have ever seen in my entire life.

“Your dad is a good man,” Adam says, coming to stand beside me.

“He sure is.”

“It’s where you got it from, you know.”

“I got it from both of them.”

“You’re right,” Adam says. “Your parents are great. We’re lucky to have them.”

I throw my arm around him, and pull him close to me.

“I’m sorry your parents didn’t get to meet your kids. I can’t imagine that being easy.”