Waiting for my dad to come home

I was EXTRAORDINARILY blessed with a dad who kept banker's hours...sometimes even less than banker's hours.

He was home to play with us before the sun went down.
He came to every game or recital.
He took us to practices.
He helped us with homework.

Until recently, he took one trip a year to Las Vegas with his best friend for the Super Bowl.  His current job mandates that he travels more (and it was a big shock to the family when that started--even though we were all high school age or older).


As many children, my brothers and I would wait by the window when my dad was away (for the weekend or for a day).  We would cheer at the sight of his car and bombard him when he came through the door (if not the driveway). 

I am so happy he is doing well after surgery.  He is being discharged today and will stay in a neighboring hotel for a few days to make sure no complications arise.

We are just waiting for him to come home...and it feels like I'm in elementary school again, waiting by the window.