Anthony: We must stop meeting like this.
Me: Oh, very funny.
Anthony: What’s up?
Me: Well, you know how I used to always remember the anniversary of my dad’s death?
Anthony: I remember your tears, I remember you always rang your mother, and I remember you being in a filthy mood and I didn’t know what was wrong….
Me: ….and then I’d tell you and you would be so compassionate and beautiful and nonplussed.
Anthony: Why have you always remembered June 9, your father’s deathday, and not his birthday?
Me: Maybe I’m morbid. Anyway, why are you cross-examining me?
Anthony: Morbid curiosity? By the way, his birthday is in April and I know this for a fact.
Me: Okay, so what date exactly? I’m ahead of you because I just messaged my Meg.
Anthony: Just a moment, Jules. I need to talk to the man himself.
Me: This is ridiculous, Ants! How am I expected to believe that you, John Wayne, and now my dad, Brinsley Lane, are all in cahoots?
Anthony: We all like chess?
Me: Well, I know my dad liked chess but you never even touched that extremely expensive marble chess set I gave you on your birthday in….
Anthony: Jules?
Me: What now?
Anthony: Dairy farmers don’t play chess.
Me: Oh.
Anthony: Brin’s birthday was the 10th of April. Four days ago marks the 40th anniversary of his sudden death of a heart attack at the age of 57 when he reluctantly left your mother a young widow, and you teenage kids without a dad.
Me: How is he, Ants?
Anthony: Put it this way, Jules; I thought I loved you but this guy, Brin, your dad, loves you more.
jmgoyder 
Love this conversation so much my beautiful daughter. So comforting, funny and real.
Dads and husbands. What a blessing to have such love.
awww
So special. I have a feeling that these conversations are not imagined at all.
As I read this, I began to wonder – could you have an imaginary conversation with your dad? What would that be like?
I am waiting and ready for this! Your conversations are so healing. 🙂
Another great conversation