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One Cobble at a Time

A Father’s Day Story

Sandra Tayler's Journal

responsible woman

A cobble by itself is just a small stone, but when many of them lay together they create a path . My life is made up of many discrete parts. I have to find ways to fit them all into place so that I can continue to journey where I desire to go. This journal records some of the cobbles that create my path.

A Father’s Day Story

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responsible woman

“Do I have to?” Whispered Patch to me from his seat next to me on the chapel bench.

“Yes.” I said back.

“I don’t want to.” He pleaded.

“Get up there and sing for your Dad.” I answered.

Howard probably didn’t much care whether his son got up to sing with the other kids at church, but I cared. I’d failed in the “planning for Father’s Day” department and figured the least I could do was nudge Patch into singing.

Patch put down his notepad and pencil, then trudged his way up to the front and into the back row of kids. He stood there scowling as hard as he could. Next to me on the bench, Howard started shaking with suppressed laughter. The music started and fifty young voices began a sweet song about how important fathers are. Patch glowered silently. He looked over at Howard and I to make sure we could see his glower. I do not know what expression Howard was wearing, but the moment Patch caught sight of it, the glower shattered as a giggling smile broke through. Patch valiantly attempted to formulate a new scowl, but any time he looked at his dad a smile would escape suppression. Howard, for his part, leaned and peeked around the backs of the folks in front of us so that Patch could always see his face. Also, I’m pretty sure he pulled out his full arsenal of silly faces. It didn’t take long for Patch to give up scowling.

When all the other kids were done singing and shuffled off to their seats, Patch came back to us smiling and hugged Howard for a long time.

Mirrored from onecobble.com.

  • I have to comment on this one. Today, my son, (six months or so "Patch's" senior) actually got up to sing without protest. This is largely due to the efforts of my dear wife who had talked to him and got him prepped to go up there. So when the time came he went right up without protest or hesitation. He didn't sing, but he did go up willingly.

    This in contrast to Mother's day where I managed to get him up there only because he didn't want to be seen being bodily dragged by me. For years he has been very unwilling to do the public singing thing, so we are making progress. This is also better than the sacrament program where he brought my wife's sweater up with him and put it over his head for the entire time he was on stage, including his speaking part.
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