the Hamburger

When I talked to my dad, he said that he was coming to in town sometime in November. Then he asked (or did I) Do you want to get together? He said that we need to at least get together and have a hamburger.... a Hamburger? What does that mean? Is that his way of wanting to get to know me, or just lead me to think he wants to know me. A hamburger can be so many things. It can be a quick drive through Mickey D's window or a nice lunch out on a patio with homemade fries and a big glass of sweet tea. The first meaning nothing except that is all you have time for and the latter meaning you want to hang out and talk, really talk about important things over continuous refills of sweet tea. I, of course, quickly agreed that I would love to get together and he should just let me know when he was coming in town and then we could get together. I told him that I would love to meet him face to face and see how we look alike, or talk alike, or have the same smile. I would just love it (more than he would ever know!). However, now that I have totally over thought this conversation, I am beginning to doubt that he will call. I mean, he doesn't have to. He can never talk to me again and more than likely be fine with it. I mean, he has lived for 32 years or so without talking or seeing me, so what is different now? Am I different? Will it change my life if he doesn't call? Will it change my life if he does? Then I came to a conclusion: Even if I never talk to him again, this was the best that I could have ever wanted this conversation to be. I could not have dreamed it any better. The words were perfect, the way he sounded was perfect, the timing was perfect, the fact that he seemed to care was perfect, the way he called me sweetie when he said goodbye was perfect, the way he seemed to want more was perfect. What more could I want? But, guess what? I do want more. I want to him to call me. I want to meet him. I want that Hamburger!