Yes, I know they did; no, I don’t want to think about it

I went by Dad’s after church to say Happy Father’s Day. He’d been looking for something last night that had him going through remembrances and keepsakes, and he found a note from my mom that she wrote him before they were married.

Mom and Dad, July 12, 1977. (So married nearly ten years here.)

Well, it was sort of a note. It was a piece of notebook paper completely covered up with little doodles, cartoons, and mini-messages of a sentence or two. “Maybe you want it,” Dad said, and handed it to me.

I started reading it before I really realized what it was. It didn’t take me long to stop. The things that my 19-year-old mother had to say to my 22-year-old father in something meant only for his eyes are not things I need to read.

I mean, of course they felt that way about each other. They got married. Here I am, and I have a sister, so demonstrably, they had sexual intercourse at least twice.

But that doesn’t mean I want to actively consider it.

Happy Father’s Day!

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