Dad's retirement

Well, Dad retired yesterday. Some would say that retirement means rest or relaxation. For Jenn and I, it means more babysitting!

I've said before, probably to him, that I'm proud of my father, but thankful as well. His career affected generations of children in a positive way, but his life affected mine in a far more greater way than he probably realizes.

One story, just one:

I was nine or ten years old and it was snowing out. When the snow stopped, I looked out the window. Only one thing was left to do. Wiffle ball in the snow! We played, Dad and I, and towards the end, when we were picking up our bat and ball, I asked him if we could play again.

"Of course," he said.

And while I don't quite remember whether or not we actually did play again, I do remember how much hope two words can muster in a 10 year old.

"Of course," he said, and my heart rose.

I took Liam on a hike today. We played on the cliffs of Liam's Mountain, nee Meriden Mountain.

We looked at the houses and the people below and talked about how small they looked. We saw Hartford, miles away beneath sunny skies, where Mommy works and Daddy goes to school. We talked about things and peed on trees. We were father and son.

On our way to the mall to meet Jenn and Victoria for lunch, Liam asked if we could climb the mountain again.

"Of course," I said.

My father has retired from work, but not from life. He looks forward to more time with his children, his Southington children and his Disney children. He looks forward to more time with Kayla and Liam and Victoria. A whole bunch of living, a whole bunch of relaxing left to do.

So Dad, you've retired. It is time to rest.

And as you rest, know you are loved.

--Matt