1 out of 2 ain't bad

We went to Utah for 2 reasons: to see my Dad and s-i-l run in the SLC marathon AND to see my little brother graduate.

You'd think that after waiting for 3 hours at one checkpoint, I'd have seen Dad go by. But I didn't. Whether this was because I was looking for a guy in a tan shirt and black hat (when he was really wearing a red shirt and red hat), or because I had two small children that were fried by the time he might have passed, or because it was right when I realized that the Sita had erased all the pictures I had taken during the vacation so far from the camera, or perhaps a combination of all three, is not certain. What is very certain is that I did not see him go by. And the brother (cheering on his fit and fabulous wife) did not see him at the finish line, either.

I began pestering race officials about how I would find out if my father had collapsed onto the sidelines or twisted an ankle or had a heart attack, but they couldn't help me. Finally, the brother found an official that could help him and discovered that Dad had finished the race.

Forty-five minutes earlier.

We all congregate at the finish line and spread out in a search pattern to find the missing man. We call all the people we think he might've tried calling, but no one is home. When we find someone home, we only know that he called, but didn't leave any message about where he was or where he would be. I get an irate phone call from my aunt asking me where in the heck I was and why I hadn't picked up my father. I rejoice that she has told him to stay where he was to wait for someone to pick him up -

TWO MILES from the finish line!

We find him (only blocks from where I had been waiting for him to pass for 3 hours!). He stops feeling like no one loves him when he realizes that we've been worrying about him and where he is for 4 hours. We all agree to laugh about it after we loudly and forcefully explain what had been happening to each other.

The graduation was a much easier affair. Cell phones are a most wondrous invention for coordinating with family at large events with many people to get lost between. We listen to a boring graduation speech. We see the brother and hear his name called in the first 10 minutes of the procession. We wait for the next hour and a half for everyone else to walk and shake and shake and smile and get flashed and walk and sit. We smile and take our own pictures then proceed to enjoy some sensuous sandwiches before heading home to collapse in bed.

Well, that's what I should've done. Instead, I went on a date with the SM to get a milkshake and diapers (so romantic!), and proceeded to come down with strep throat the next day. I can't say I recommend doing this to finish up a vacation, but at least I got lots of sympathy (even if I couldn't hold my darling nephew for the first time!)