“I had to be escorted. He wouldn’t let me see her without either him or his mother in the room with me.” Tears ran down her face. She spoke as if the law had been quoted to her, “Tennessee law allows a non-custodial parent to spend time with her child under the supervision of another person or at a designated facility. I was treated like a criminal. Then when I said I’d be in town for over a week he said I needed to get a lawyer if I wanted to visit her without supervision and I couldn’t see her at all during the week because of school.”
Sam pointed at the engine. “If Fed Ex delivers today we can put this back together, test it, and be out of here. Otherwise there might be a war with a delivery company for sure.” She laughed. And, I don’t look good in purple. She waved at the engine. “Previous owner made some unfortunate modifications, I think for the non inspected storage.”
Shellac and Sugar Cookies
I hadn’t thought about her in over 50 years (dating self); however, sitting in a Waffle House the other morning, I overheard a conversation from a very excited young man. His story was that his son had been in the hospital, and recovered largely because of a Candy Striper. His consternation was that he never learned the name of the young woman who spent so many late night hours with his son. By the way, this is an old story, repeated many times over the years.
Audrey filled her flower watering can up to the predetermined level—clearly marked on the outside of the can. She carefully set the can on the footstool near the door, and returned to the kitchen to wipe off the counter. A few minutes later, she returned to the door preparing to go outside and water her plants.
Sometime in June, the local newspaper will announce the Father of the Year: a dubious honor bestowed upon a man who has been nominated by his family. I have no idea who the judges are, or what qualifications are needed to judge the fatherhood of any other man.