I haven't been over here in a while, but this past weekend got my brain muttering (yeah, okay, muttering brain syndrome probably shouldn't be discussed publicly, but here in our minuscule forum, confidentiality likely won't be an issue) and mutterings often lead to outbursts, so here we are. Father's Day 2023, it started shaping up on Friday with the arrival of my son Alex, from the Rochester area, his wife Sarah and their team, Violet, Axton and Bea (one day into being six) and my daughter Amada, from Queens, her husband Dan and son Hawk. Their presence instantly drove up the happiness meter in our abode and meant a great weekend was officially enroute. There were birthday gifts to unwrap and as can be expected, watching a six year old tear into gifts is one of life better pleasures. Saturday's weather wouldn't allow pool activity, but a trip to the supermarket with my son and daughter was a nice throwback for me and that night our friends Barb and Steve Tata came over and our roles as overseers ramped up as the four parents went out for dinner in Saratoga somewhere and left the four old-timers in charge of the littles. Pizzas solved most of the dining issues and while working out the seating a surprise guest arrived--our daughter Emily, a Bronx resident. We weren't expecting her because of a work engagement, but she kept us all in the dark about her true plans. The surprise was reprised with the return of the others and the night progressed with just the right feel (all the off-spring under the same old roof, doesn't happen often enough). Father's Day started with Dan hard at the stove making a pile of vegan breakfast dishes and I'm here to say, he's made it before and it's always delicious and I'm eager for the next. So, on Father's Day, the weather allowed outside enjoyment and the Huck Finn Playland was the designated target, it's a midway for tykes, so Alex and Bea, Mandy, Dan and Hawk, Emily and I ventured off. All my kids, man I loved every second, me, a Grampa losing hair and teeth and finding weight herding his troupe through a maze of other celebrants and while trying to see this through the eyes and thoughts of a five and six year old, also seeing other oldsters with the same gleam in their eyes. There was one brief interlude where my past life as a railroad engineer rose out of my memory bank (I try to isolate my life's accumulations by whatever means my muttering brain allows, ergo my railroad time has its own bank while most of the other events try to disassociate with it and thusly these other banks have their own reckonings and often team up to stifle its uprisings, with erratic success) compelling me to chat with the engineer of the train that encircles the park. He and I shared a laugh and later in the Park we met again and he had a few railroad questions, so there you go. We had some drinks, fries and a fry cake and it was great and after a bit back home to round out the day, for me, one of all-time great Father's Day happenings. All departed for home on Monday and as always when our bunch leaves, it's a heart tugging experience.                                                                                                                 Now for the mutterings. After a day or two to decompress and smile a bit with these and past Father's Day memories I expanded my scope backwards. Well let me say first, I've always felt that Father's Day isn't just about Dads, it's also has to include the kids, frankly children are a prerequisite to Fatherhood, no kids, no dad. This being said, my children have been and still are the pivot point of my life, fatherhood changes everything, often said, not always believed. I made a major shift in my life when Alice and I married and our greatest investment is our children and the return is ongoing.  Going backwards however means other memories of other times and these mean my father. These are the mutterings that got me here, I've learned, sometimes the hard way, that I cannot know what others hold inside them, Yeah sometimes you might get close and figure right, but not everyone sees through the same lens so two people sharing the same experience might easily have different  outtakes. Thinking back to my youth, I don't remember going anyplace special for Father's Day and have no way of knowing how he felt or if he wanted a different kind of activity. He never said, if he looked at his kids, there were four, and just relished our presence or wanted something more. My thoughts of my time with my dad are often specific and numerous, but Father's Day slips through. Going to Bison games, (both the baseball and the old hockey team) playing catch, talking baseball, must be how I got my lifelong interest, other times and places. A child's life. I had one and the man that gave it to me, his investment as it were, I'm trying to pay forward.