Sunday, June 19, 2016

Father's Day

Father's Day is here.

I'm not a fan.

Which sort of sucks for the husband - I participate, of course. I make the favorite breakfast, I take the kids out to find gifts, I follow that up with steaks for dinner. I produce a solid day. Even if I don't like it. Because, it's not about me. It's about the father of my children. And so I fake it.

I don't have a father. I mean, I did. Obviously. Half my DNA comes from somewhere. Contrary to popular belief, I wasn't hatched. Or anything. My start was typical.

DNA.
I was two when my parents divorced. I have no memory of them being married to each other. I've got six photos of me with my dad. All before the age of two. Plus a couple group photos at later graduations and weddings. That's it. Not a real strong relationship there. Saw him a handful of times and spoke to him on the phone twice as an adult. He died when I was 31.

When my brother called to tell me he died, he said, "Dad passed away today. We've got closure. Not the kind we wanted but we don't have to wonder any more."

And he was right. No more in the back of my mind wondering if he'd maybe call on Christmas. Or be in the area for some reason and want to meet for lunch. He was only three hours away, but that might as well have been another planet.

I was fortunate though. I had a step-dad. A good one. One who took me to the dentist and stood in the rain at track meets and soccer games. And even though he knew nothing of either of those sports, he cheered. He was invested. I needed him.

Doing Dad Stuff.
He died a little over five years ago. I've hated Father's Day ever since. I'm too old to really need a dad. But, damn, sometimes they come in handy. Even if it's just for silliness. Sometimes, you need a dad. Dad's know stuff. Like fertilizer and lawn watering schedules. When to change the oil in the car. All stuff I'm capable of but don't want to do.

Dad's teach your kids things that get you phone calls from school... Because they want to be awesome grandpas. I used to get those calls. The boy would do something, I'd get the call. I'd call my parents, because that's what you do... and the dad guy would be awkwardly silent after I described the incident...

There used to be a race. Who would call first on Father's Day. I would call early, like seven, to try to win. I would send a funny card. Sometimes. I wasn't a very good card sender. Probably could have done better there.

I could have been better in so many ways.

I could have done more than call.

I could have forgiven. I could have made that call. I didn't.

Now, that lesson seems to be an important one to learn. And, one I will be working on.




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