Lost Journal

Humor Column
by Tim Mollen
May 11, 2006

Get Dad to the Church on Time

Journal Entry:  May 5, 1990 (age 21)

Today was my cousin Dave Prioletti’s wedding.  He and his bride, Sandy, invited the entire multitude of uncles, aunts and cousins to Chicago to share in their big day.

Tensions were running a bit high in part of the Mollen contingent, as my father drove around downtown Chicago looking for the church.  Mom was not pleased, as Dad repeatedly ignored her suggestions with regard to exits, turns and other traditionally paternal concerns.  At the peak of her exasperation with Captain Dad, Mom looked back at my brother Dan and me and dramatically rolled her eyes, as if to say, “You know how your father is!”  We smiled and nodded.  Seconds later, as Mom craned her neck out the window for a glimpse of a street sign, Dad turned to us and gave his eyes an equally theatrical roll that said, “You know how your mother is.”  We smiled and nodded.

When we finally arrived at the church, Dad proudly announced that we had managed to arrive more than half an hour early.  “We’ve got enough time to drive around a bit, and show the boys the sights,” he offered, sunnily.  Simultaneously, an ominous cloud passed over my mother’s face.  As she got out of the car, she said, “Jack, I am going into this church right now.  If you want to drive around a strange city, get lost, and miss your nephew’s wedding, you go right ahead!”  As Dan got out and hurried to catch up with Mom, I moved to the front seat and buckled up for an urban safari with my old man.

Dad had joined the Navy at the age of 17, and was on a boat to Japan when victory was declared in the Pacific.  He ended up spending part of his Navy years here in Chicago.  Dad isn’t the sort of guy who talks about himself much, so I paid rapt attention as he drove around pointing out his old haunts.  He told me stories about being a young man in a new city, about being in the Navy, and about the people and places he knew back in the 1940s.  I was very interested, and soon we were very lost.

By the time we found the church again, we knew the Mass was half over.  Dad said, “Don’t worry, we’ll just slip in and no one will notice.”  He had forgotten, however, that my mom always likes to sit near the front of the church.  If I had been arriving late by myself, I would have been terrified at the prospect of marching up the aisle and clambering over people to take my seat.  But following my 64-year-old father on this shameful walk was actually fun.  My amused uncles, John, Dick and Cliff, used a variety of gestures and mouthed words to silently communicate their solidarity with my dad:  “Oh, are you in trouble now!”

When we first sat down, Mom was mortified.  But after a few minutes of rolling eyes, nods and smiles between the four of us, everything was fine.  Until we had to drive to the reception.

© 2006 Tim Mollen

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