While normally I like to take my article and give some encouragement or charge to everyone, today’s has got to be an apology, along with a little story.

It’s possible I provided my dad with the worst Father’s Day ever yesterday, completely unintentionally, mind you.

It started well enough with my parents coming to Selma to help me move back to Demopolis for a little while. They had a trailer hitched on for my heavy furniture and I was busy getting packed as they drove towards me.

Then, around 130 p.m.,  the first thing went wrong: one of the tires on the trailer had completely blown out right past the Highway 5 overpass in Perry County.

What followed was five hours of driving back and forth from Selma to the car on Highway 80, with Dad having to sit there to stay with the car for much of it.

To make matters worse, while taking the tire off, the trailer slipped off the jack, crushing my father’s hand and giving me a scare that he may have broken them (don’t worry, he didn’t).

Now my father isn’t exactly a clumsy person, if anyone in the family takes that title, it’s my brother or me but today was just not to be his day.

Once we finally got back to the house and started moving things around, he was carrying a rocking chair owned by my great-great-grandmother and missed the last step coming down with a crash on his knees.

Thankfully neither he nor the antique chair were hurt, but it just seemed to cap off a day which, to my mother and mine’s horror he exclaimed “couldn’t get any worse,” before heading home.

So, Dad, I need to say sorry for yesterday, but thank you at the same time.

I know that no matter how hurt you get helping me or how frustrating I can be, you’re always there for me. You’ve always been and will always be. I just hope one day I can be half the dad you are.