It’s been an emotional marathon this weekend. I hadn’t trained for it and it nearly kicked my ass. But there’s really no way to train for something like this. You just got to be able to get through it.
My daughter’s first birthday was on Friday, the anniversary of my father’s passing was on Saturday, and my kids’ birthday bowling party took place today. I’ve had too many emotions this weekend. But at least there was cake. Two of them. A Lightening McQueen cake for my son and a purple princess cake for my daughter. No pink involved.
The party, the balloons, the bowling action with friends the family, the pizza, the buffalo wings, the funky arcade games, the happy birthday song, the blowing out the candles, the bowling pin sippy cups, and the goodie bags. These were all great distractions. I even laughed and smiled, but my dad was still on my mind.
He would’ve loved the party. He’s the kind of guy that had his own bowling shoes, bowling ball, bowling towel, and bowling bag, but no bowling league. That’s just how he rolled. He didn’t need the league, he was pretty badass by himself. Whenever he picked up a hobby he went all the way, and the family joined in. We all had our Brunswick or Dexter bowling shoes, part of it because we were badass. But also because we weren’t big fans of sharing other people’s sweaty bowling shoes. Even with the disinfectant spray. I told you, I’ve got them Howard Hughes issues. But we always had a good time.
So when I was off celebrating my kids’ birthdays, I missed seeing my dad’s blue bowling bag hanging out on one of the chairs. Even though I was happy for my son and daughter, I was sad about dad. His presence was definitely missed.
But seeing everyone enjoy themselves and my son reaching for that congratulatory high-five when he got that strike made me feel less crappy. And I don’t know what it is that makes you feel so great after knocking down ten pins, but you definitely smile and feel some sort of vindication.
And yes … yes there were strikes. Granted the kids had bumpers to help them out, nevertheless a strike was hard to come by in that tiny tots section, so when it did happen, it was high-fives all-around and dance moves for everyone. In fact having him throw the ball and then lean to the right and then to left, made me crack up. Watching him study the pins as if he was planning his next move was even funnier.
It was a good moment during my emotional marathon, and I was thankful that my son was having a good time, my daughter wasn’t giving me that baby attitude, my family wasn’t crazy, and my friends showed up to join the party. Even though there was no blue bowling bag, I did have hugs, smiles, chocolate cake, white cake, and goody bags.