Father's Day

Until today, Father's Day has never really meant too much to me. My father, Howard Newman, died when I was very young and having never been blessed with a child of my own, I had never had the opportunity to experience Father's Day. It was a long time coming, but well worth the wait, I think.

This morning, after Jude finished feeding John Patrick, we were all laying in bed together, watching Sunday Morning with Charles Osgood on CBS. She was holding him, talking to him and I was reading the Sunday Tennessean. Suddenly, I received my first Father's Day gift of the day, when we heard what sounded like a small explosion and John Patrick looked up at Jude innocently.

If you've been reading the blog, you know I've been a bit concerned the past couple of weeks, because John Patrick has gone several days between bowel movements. Yes, I've read where it's perfectly normal for infants who are breastfeeding to go as long as a week, or even ten days, without having a bowel movement. The nurses at our pediatrician's office have told us the same thing. Still, I've been a little worried about it.

So, sweeter sounds (and smells) haven't been heard in a while than when John Patrick decided to drop a deuce this morning. The best part was, it being Father's Day and all, Jude got to change the dirty diaper. And I mean "dirty." A couple of hours later, John Patrick gave me my second Father's Day gift, a repeat performance of the first. While recognizing it feels a little strange to be so concerned about another human being's common irregularities, if you get my drift, I was still very relieved. More importantly, John Patrick was very relieved.

At church, Father Eric Fowlkes gave a splendid homily. As the service was ending, he asked all of the fathers in the congregation to stand up for a blessing. I felt proud, really proud, to stand up with the other fathers, with my wife and son sitting beside me. It was yet another moment I'll always remember.

After church, Jude, John Patrick and I went to eat lunch at "I Dream of Weenie," a hot dog stand in East Nashville inside a refurbished Volkswagen Bus. Jude and I ate a couple of bratwursts at a picnic table, while John Patrick slept in his stroller. After we finished, we strolled around "Five Points" for a little while, then went home.

Early in the afternoon, John Patrick and I packed up his gear and made a trip to my mother's house. Her long time neighbors, Evelyn and Bill Pilkinton, had made arrangements to come to her house to meet John Patrick for the first time. I've knows Evelyn and Bill for 35 years and they're not like family to me . . . they are family, so it was great to introduce them to my son. Evelyn, who is a pro with infants and children, held him for a long time. We had a nice visit and my mother loaded us up with lots of food to take home, which will come in handy this week as Jude returns to work.

This evening, I went for a quick three mile run and met Jude and John Patrick at Bongo Java on Belmont Boulevard. We picked up a couple of bottled waters and a popsicle for Jude, then strolled back home together in the early evening sunshine, one small, happy family.

After our walk, we arrived home just in time to see Tiger Woods sink a long, twisting putt on the 18th hole of the U.S. Open to force an 18 hole playoff tomorrow with Rocco Mediate. Then, tonight, my Lakers beat the Celtics in game 5 of the NBA Finals.

Not bad for my first Father's Day, huh?