It was Father Heaven for me yesterday. I came back to Enid after a wonderful Feast of Pentecost Eucharist at Grace and was in the backyard getting the grill ready for some kabobs. Jack came out, grabbed a tennis ball, and said, “Hey Dad! Want to play catch with me?”
Excellent. We threw the ball back and forth for a while. Jack was throwing and catching really well, but every once in a while threw a wild one. We were having fun, and then it got better.
“Dad, we should talk about stuff.”
I smiled. “What do you want to talk about? Girls?”
“Yep. Really.” He caught the ball with two hands and tossed it back to me. “You like girls, don’t you?”
I think he blushed a little and missed the ball. He ran to pick it up and tossed it back over my head. “Sure. I like girls. You know. I like Mommy. And Erin.” Jack smiled again. Erin is his friend from Church. Her brother is our godsend. He is going to marry Erin someday, he had told us. He’d told that to Erin too, and she agreed.
“That’s good,” I said. I tossed the ball back and he caught it again.
“Maybe we can talk about stuff like we did that one day. About cars and motors and stuff.”
“You want to talk about motors? Transmissions?”
“Yeah. About cars and how they work. Like how they turn, Dad.”
He had started asking questions about cars one day on the way to school, and I described how the internal combustion engine worked, how the pistons moved, turning the shaft and all that. It had been weeks ago, but he remembered. So did I.
We didn’t get much of a chance to talk about power trains and transfer cases. Nor head gaskets or cams. Not long after that our friends arrived and the grill was ready, and the car-talk had to wait.
But I have a boy who played catch with his dad, who wanted to talk guy talk, and it was heaven. Simply heaven