Weekends are hard. No easy way to put that. Weekends I have a lot of time to sit around and think. And having time to think is not a good thing to do.
Last night I sat around with Chris and his best friends from high school. These are the kids who I have watched grow up into some pretty amazing adults. They are taking the world by storm all over the East coast and yet they come together every now and then to catch up and go out.
I love that.
As we were sitting there, I reminded them about last year Thanksgiving Eve when my dad drove all their drunk asses home from the bar. One of them looks at me, says "Funny story," and proceeds to tell us that when he got out of the car, he got sick in his driveway.
As I sat around the table with them, I imagined my dad walking into the kitchen, telling everyone hello, and continuing on with his night of watching television.
Its moments like that I really miss my dad. When he would be so impressed with the people that my brother and his friends have become.
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