While my dad stood still in front of an alter, all folded fingers and suited, they were winding through trees over cracked asphalt pointing at sad animals. We had a great time! I imagined that she'd much rather have sat on some Adirondack chairs drinking tea (or vodka) harping on and on with: Oh lordy! What a gorgeous, gorgeous day! By the end of our part of the phone call, she'd retreated a bit saying that it was only okay. I couldn't tell if the latter was her way of finally getting out with how she really felt about the trip or if she had just tried to pare down the positive thinking that I'd somehow feel even more left out than I would be otherwise - couple thousand miles away (give or take). Whether an admission or confession, it was the slightest bit refreshing. Occasionally - and Sundays are my worst - I struggle with which is worse: spending a day lonely or spending it with a crummy, fumbling team of a family. The best part of it all is that all told, the call went for under five minutes. Since my sister was in the car, I was able to wish her Happy Mam's Day thus killing two birds with one stone.