Being 78 and living alone, I was looking forward to the holiday with the same excitement a kid waits for Christmas. Finally, my children and my grandkids would come over for dinner and the house would feel alive again, because ever since my wife’s passing, it has been uncomfortably quiet.
I grabbed Margaret’s recipe book and went through the recipes our family enjoyed the most, and while sitting there at the kitchen, holding my late wife’s precious belonging, I rang my daughter Sarah.
“Don’t forget dinner tonight. I’m not the best chef there is, but I’ll do my best,” I said laughingly.
“Oh, dad, you sound just like mom. Of course I’ll be there,” she said.
Then I called Michael. “Family dinner tonight! I made your favorite potatoes, the ones you and your sister used to fight over.”
Michael smiled and said he won’t miss the gathering.
Next, I called my grandkids, Emma and Jake. They were just starting out in life, usually far too busy for old folks like me. I put the call on speaker and heard chaos in the background, music, voices. I slipped into my silly grandpa voice. “Is your old man still cool enough to make it onto your schedule? I’m hosting a family dinner today, and yes, there’s real dessert.”
“Okay, okay. Maybe,” Emma said.
Since everyone was reminded of the family dinner I was planning for weeks, I got busy in the kitchen. But then I realized I didn’t have any flour. How could I ran out of flour on one of the most important days of the year.
But I wasn’t bothered since I knew my neighbor Linda would give me some. She and I have been next door neighbors for over 20 years.
“Big dinner tonight! You won’t believe it, but the entire family is coming,” I said, before I asked for some flour.
“Well, it’s about time. That house will have some life in it again since Margaret’s passing. It’s been far too long since the kids were there.”
I rushed to defend my children’s action of not visiting me. “You know how it is. They are busy running their own lives. But they are coming tonight.”
I got back to my kitchen and tried baking cookies, with a pleasant aroma filling the entire place. But then, the messages kept coming one by one.
“Dad, I’m truly sorry. Something came up. I’ll see you another time.” Not long after, Michael wrote he wasn’t coming either.
“Well, at least Emma and Jake will be here,” I thought to myself. But I was so wrong. They also came up with excuses.
And as I was sitting in my kitchen all by myself, someone knocked on the door.
When I opened it, I froze. Police officers stood there, and their expressions left no doubt they were serious.
“You’re under arrest for a serious crime. Turn around and put your hands behind your back.”
“You are making a mistake,” I kept telling them, but they wouldn’t listen.
As they escorted me out, I spotted Linda across the street, covering her mouth in shock. I felt more embarrassed by the empty chairs than by the arrest itself.
“Can you tell me what this is about?”
“Aggravated assault. 1992.”
They started asking all bunch of questioned and wanted to know where I was in the fall of 1992.
I explained that I was a teacher of English in Ohio during that period.
“So you weren’t in Wisconsin?” an officer asked.
“No, I’ve never been to Wisconsin,” I answered.
The younger officer left and returned with a larger file. I realized things were serious.
Eventually, they confirmed it was a mistake. A sergeant gave me a look that almost said sorry. Then the door slammed open.
“Who put Mr. Patterson in here?”
It was Daniel, Linda’s son. And behind him, neighbors appeared, Linda, Pastor Williams, Mrs. Kim, Tom from the hardware store. They were all there to tell everyone that I was a good man.
“All right, all right, the officer said, raising his hands. “We’ve confirmed this was a case of mistaken identity. Mr. Patterson is free to go.”
Just as we all got out of the station, I spotted my family at the parking lot.
“Dad, what’s going on?” Michael asked. “Did you do this just to force us to come here?”
Then Sarah added, “You know how busy we are. Did you do this on purpose? Was this a fake arrest. Are you pranking us???”
“Of course not,” I said, shocked and offended at how little my own children thought of me.
“It feels awfully convenient,” Sarah yelled, “that we show up right when you’re being released.”
I couldn’t believe they really thought I was playing games with them just to have them come.
“I don’t need to trick anyone into spending time with me,” I said. “And if that’s what it takes to get you here, then I don’t want it.”
I then turned to Linda and asked her if she could give me a lift home.
Instead with my children and grandchildren, I spent the holiday and that long-planned family dinner with my neighbors, the only people who were there for me when I needed them.
I invited everyone over, and for the first time in two years, my place wasn’t quiet.
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Bored Daddy
Love and Peace
