In honor of Father’s Day, here’s an excerpt from an essay by Jim Shepard in The Book of Dads: Essays on the Joys, Perils, and Humiliations of Fatherhood:
We lived in Lordship, Connecticut, on Long Island Sound, five minutes from the beach by foot, and my father, one of the great covert worriers anybody’s ever known, dropped by whenever he knew I was down there, just to, you know, check and see if the kid was doing anything stupid, or was still alive.
In this case, of course, the kid was both. I was so far out by then that my father scanned the horizon from east to west and thought maybe I’d decided against going out after all. He turned to leave but as an afterthought asked the lifeguard standing nearby if a kid had gone out that morning on a sailboat with a pale blue hull and a red and white sail. The lifeguard said “Yeah, that’s him there,” and pointed to a speck-sized triangle.
To read more excerpts, you can click here. Happy Father’s Day!