This past Friday my daughter graduated from high school. I called my dad a month in advance to let him know when and maybe make plans to be there. The weekend previous -- the Mother's Day debacle -- I reminded him, and asked if he thought they might be there. Or just him, if he would get someone to watch Mom. Your only granddaughter is graduating with honors! C'mon, at least try!

He was noncommittal, and I went home.

The following week I told my daughter that while her Mamaw and Papaw -- Hubby's parents -- would be there for sure, I couldn't be certain of her other grandparents. She looked sad, but said she understood. On the morning of the big day, I called my dad again. The ceremony starts at six, it'll be brief, only 19 kids graduating (my kids have been attending a small charter school, very limited class sizes). How bout I save you a couple seats?

He hemmed and hawed and made his apologies. Mom was having a Bad Day, it just wouldn't work.

So that was that. My grandma, all of 96 years old, went with us and enjoyed the whole thing. We all went out to dinner, Hubby got Grandma a margarita with only half the usual amount of tequila, which she seemed to relish (I admit, I helped polish it off LOL) and we were back home by 9:30.

My MIL promised to email pics to my parents.

Even on a not-bad day, Mom likely wouldn't have really enjoyed it. And for what it's worth, I  think my dad made the right decision to  keep her at home. But because he won't call on anyone but me to watch her, he missed out on something lovely and important.

And my daughter missed out, too.