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In the airport, I saw a farmer I
would guess to be in his early 80s with his son I guessed to be 60 years old. They were sitting at the table beside me visiting and drinking their coffee. They seemed to be genuinely enjoying their time together.
I lined up to go
through security behind them and it was clear that only the father was getting on the plane. His son walked with him as close as he could to the security check point. He hugged his dad harder than I have ever seen a son hug his father. He planted a kiss on his dad's weathered cheek and said, "I love you Dad." With no concern for who was in line watching them, the father
hugged him back and said with pure love in his voice, "I love you Son." They both teared up as they waved goodbye from opposite sides of the glass.
I watched that man for the rest of my time waiting to board our plane. As I watched I wondered... was he always able to tell his boy he loved him?
Was he doing it differently with his son than his father had with him? Did this man have the courage to break the cycle so that generations of fathers after him can tell their sons, "I love you"? It reminded me of how grateful I am to have a wonderful father who always hugs me and tells me he loves
me.
It also reminded me.... it is never too late.
Happy Fathers Day.
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