Bench Paths

Red Sox vs Mariners — 6/21/26

The morning of Father’s Day I woke up in pure ambivalence. I wanted both a special day and nothing to happen at all. Snuffy had been in our home for close to a month. He cuddled up on our bed every evening, demanding pets and inserting himself into our comfort zones.

Nadia had tended to Snuffy and the kids, allowing me to sleep in. Looking back, I wish I had made a little more of the morning. Instead I lay in bed a little. Looked up who was starting today, Logan Gilbert. Looked up the stats of Sloan and Anderson, two up-and-coming minor league starters in the Mariner’s system.

When I came downstairs, Nadia and the kids had already eaten. At the risk of sounding like a mopy drama king, this was not the usual Father’s Day morning ritual and vibe. An errand we were all dreading hung in the air.

The kids were lovely. Leo gave me a card and a wire necklace that hung a thick, blank, square sheet. ”You can write or draw whatever you want on it!” It was a very sweet gesture, and had I been a better father on a less hostile day, I would have made use of it immediately and worn it proudly. A month later, it sits atop the dresser in my office.

”We’ve got to get going soon,” Nadia said with a solemn look. “Did you want to go or should I?” I didn't have it in me. Leo demanded to come along, which I actually didn't think was a great idea. Not sure who I thought I was protecting. Though never explicitly stated, I think Nadia’s Father’s Day gift to me was allowing me to decide how to say goodbye.

Before they left, I gave Snuffy a long hug. He put both paws on my shoulders and licked my cheeks. I had seen this exact same image with Snuffy and Leo a couple days ago after bringing Leo home from school. At this point we knew he was going to a new home. Snuffy was always excited to see Leo home, but their embrace was very long and tender, and I held a very pained smile watching them hold on to that moment.

After Nadia, Leo, and Snuffy pulled away I sat for a moment, soaking whatever wave had come over me. Then, abruptly, I got up and looked in the fridge. Farmer’s market eggs and bacon. Not a common breakfast for me at all, but in this moment they were essential.

I’m not really an eggs for breakfast guy. I usually make a parfait with Icelandic yogurt. But today felt like an occasion. I wanted it to be anyway. Nina watched some cartoons while I heated up the pan. I thought a little about all the things we did business as usual while Snuffy entered our home. I didn’t postpone the cleaners. We had a babysitter over within the first week. It was for a friend’s wedding, but maybe we should have shifted our plans. That was the first time we saw territorial behavior from Snuffy in our home, and it freaked us out a little bit.

I sat down with my bacon, fried eggs, and black coffee. Took a couple bites and a sip. The combination of salt, fat, and acid transported me to my Oma and Opa’s kitchen in New Braunfels, Texas. They had a chicken coop; I don’t think I knew how good those eggs were. Oma would always have something cooking up in the morning. She’d spend afternoons cross-stitching on her recliner. I tried to hold onto these memories as the house has been empty for a couple years now. Nina came up to me and grabbed a piece of bacon, tried it while wandering the living room, and then grabbed another. I made some more bacon.

After eating, I got ready for the game. It had been about a week since shaving, so my face had darkened with the beginnings of a beard. Almost as if soul searching, I shaved my chin and jaw-line, but left the mustache. Nadia has never been crazy about mustaches, but I’ve only ever started them from a lush, full beard, and the stache would arrive with quite a presence. Here, I felt like I was starting the mustache a little more earnestly which ultimately earned some good faith from Nadia. I’m also told that sexy little glasses are out and sexy little mustaches are in. At this point I also had a bit of a mullet to complete the 80’s reliever look with the stache.

With the weather being quite warm today, I put on shorts, a tank top, and draped my white Naylor jersey over it unbuttoned. I completed the look with my grandma-couch pattern M’s hat and tortoise rim sunglasses. I stood at the mirror for a minute wondering if this was all too much.

Me at the game on Father’s Day

Nadia and Leo returned with Snuffy’s leash and collar. I asked how it went. “Terrible!” exclaimed Leo. Nadia clarified it was about how she expected. Snuffy became alert and territorial as soon as he realized the foster was going to be in their presence for a while. He was barking; Leo was crying. The foster was able to assume some control over Snuffy’s rough demeanor once she had the leash, which was comforting to both Nadia and me.

About a month later, we would learn that Snuffy (or whatever his name would become or revert to) was entering another potential forever home. I found this both relieving and devastating. Maybe we were an important step in his journey to find the right home; maybe we could have been that home had the wind—and our read of it—blown differently.

The field crew between 8th and 9th innings

——

After the game, the afternoon and evening opened themselves to us in a way that early Seattle summers often do. There was too much daylight left in the day to stay home. It was Father’s Day, the Mariners won, let’s go to the lake.

Nadia was paddle boarding with the kids, so I had a little time to myself. I may have been a little tipsy. Nadia & I had one more drink at the ballpark than usual. I recounted quite a few warm memories from the day:

I also took some notes that I thought added texture to the day:

Muñoz taking the field

Leo, Nina, and I paddle boarded in Lake Washington off Seward Park that late afternoon. Nina preferred a short paddle around the rocky beach we launched from. I dropped her off with Nadia, while Leo and I went further. As we paddled towards Mercer Island, we saw a young eagle swoop down and try to grab a fish from the water. We would continually run into this magnificent creature as we seemed to prefer the same corner of Seward Park.

Once we floated closer to Mercer Island, Leo and I judged a few houses facing the lake. Leo liked one that was sort of a combination of a modern craftsman and grand European castle. I told him I liked the modern one because it knew what it was. Not sure if Leo understood wholly, but I like to think he has a sense of the character of Seattle homes. On our way back to Nadia and Nina, we slowed down as a corridor of lake opened between Mercer and South Seattle to reveal Mount Rainier. We faced the mountain, painted pink-orange from the sun lowering on the other side of the horizon. A family of ducks trailing between Leo and the mountain.

Later we returned to an altered home. Dog dishes, toys, treats strewn about. An empty crate, which Nadia and I would process a bit before we went to bed … this was the crate we moved to our bedroom to avoid bothering our sensitive neighbor. An empty bed with no dog forcing his way between or on top of Nadia and me. It was too long of a day to clean up the lingering reminders of his absence. And some of the more practical items would linger even longer, forcing us to ask periodically whether we were willing to do this again. They remain in our living space months later.

After dinner, I called my Dad. It was late in Houston when I called, and my mom was already asleep. The kids told him Happy Father’s Day. I don’t remember exactly what we talked about. The call log on my phone said it was 11 minutes long. He had spent part of the day with my brother Nathan, who had just become a father to a baby girl he named after me. We were still in the new phase where everyone would joke, “Which Jordan?” I can’t recall what I shared with him on the phone that evening or if I even brought up Snuffy at all. I probably focused on the pleasant things. The baseball game, the lake, the eagle. “I love you, Dad.”

Final: Mariners 3, Red Sox 1
Seats: Section 183, Row 2, over the M’s bullpen
Memory: Hard to say

#Snuffy