My friend the “bag lady” was the first to wish me a happy Father’s Day a couple of days ago, but she crafted it in the words “happy holiday,” which she often does to feel relevant and significant. But then again, she does not have a father anymore, and her own son’s father is whereabouts unknown, which has given her son the freedom to ignore and just about dispel her from existence. So sad….
I have always thought these “special” days have been hijacked by the greeting card companies and the Hallmark company and used to instill guilt and anxiety in a population who is ever hungry for significance and meaning in their lives. So when these days are advertised weeks ahead before their arrival, they are giving us plenty of time to repent of our evil thoughts towards them and get with the program and “buy a card” for “whatever day” happens to be the most financially lucrative.
The father I once knew and loved has been gone now for over 15 years, and even now before the day begins, I wonder if I need to make the journey upstate to the cemetery where he is buried and pay my respects. Not that I don’t ever do this. I am probably the only one in my immediate family besides my younger sister, Cyn, who pays occasional tribute, while I have made an effort to be at the cemetery on every day/night I have free from work. Not even my daughters visit their grandparents’ gravesite, which lacks honor for children who have been home educated and know the difference between reality and fantasy-driven mediocrity.
I remember the morning I announced to my ex-family and daughters, who were about 5 years of age then, that their grandfather had died. My girls are twins, and Samala was the first to burst into tears, with my other daughter Johanna just hugging me closely. As the weeks would pass into months, the mere mention of my father/her grandfather would produce the same identical emotional reaction. Tears would come almost automatically, but then again, my girls loved their grandfather, even if he was disabled and not in the position to play with them.
As I write these recollections, I often wonder if Samala would shed one tear for me, as she has chosen not to speak to me or see me since the onset of the divorce her mother desired of me over 5 years ago. But then, the girls were connected at the hip with their mother and still are, and if my name is mentioned in their home, I am certain Samala is not shedding one tear for me, which explains why she never signs a card with her name on it when one is sent to me, and has not sent me a birthday card or wish for a happy Father’s Day or whatever day in these many years gone by. With some bittersweet humor here, I wouldn’t mind have her wish me a wonderful day any day of the week or month or year.
It has been said that children will “grow out of” their stages, but I am not so sure. I can still see the look on my father’s face when my actions as a child displeased him, and I can still hear his voice when he told me for the first time he loved me when I was 50 years of age. In retrospect, I used to tell my children I loved them every day and night, but now….hmmmm….those memories or recollections must have vanished in the minds of the girls who were the answer to my prayers.
So….Happy Father’s Day to those fathers who are the very best, and others who are not very best, but try to be, and others who question the whole idea of having to be the very best for anything at all. It is destiny. To have a child is to be a parent, whether good or ill. And I am truly grateful and rejoice in the fact that I have a Heavenly Father who loves me unconditionally and is rich in mercy, grace, and forgiveness, and who allows me to enter into situations and circumstances to conform me to the image of his only begotten Son. Happy Father’s Day, my Lord and my God……
If we don’t stand for something, we will fall for anything. I am happy I have not fallen out of love for the children who were the blessing of the Lord, regardless of their affection for me. Peace to you all…..