Father’s Day is a day that often feels a little weird to me. I would not use the word bittersweet; because on this day that honors fathers, I can only say that I had the best and I continue to be surrounded by the best. But I miss being able to wish my own Dad a Happy Fathers Day. And I don’t enjoy the memory of his last Fathers Day here; when I did not want to see him because he was not him anymore.
But, as my Dad would always and exhaustingly say, life is for the living, so I must always go on with the living and let the dead be, well, dead.
I told you, it’s weird.
It has gotten less depressing; not because I miss him less; but because I am nearing a point where he’s been gone for so long that I am used to his absence.
I had a father and I don’t now. And that’s okay, because it has to be. I had him long enough to know he was good at being a Dad, but not perfect. I was able to see his struggles and understand them as a parent. One thing I know, and I write this with total humility, I know nothing about being a father.
I admire my own husband for the good, hard, joyous, imperfect father path he walks. I don’t know how he does it. I know our children see his good and they see his bad. I think the seeing of both is what grows their genuine, deep, trust-filled relationship.
He gives them so much confidence to try things and fail, knowing that no matter what, their Dad is a safe place to land. I am not sure how he does all of that; but he does. Just like I have no idea how he fixes everything that breaks (often several items a day).
While this day is a simple celebration of fathers we love; I also think it is an acknowledgement of unique and special and mysterious thing that is fatherhood. I am so grateful my husband is the father to my children. I am so grateful for the father I had. And I am so grateful for all the wonderful fathers in my life—my father in law, brother in law, uncles, cousins and friends.
Happy Father’s Day.
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