Father’s Day - a reflection on #34
As an emo are you kidding me, #34. Tears drizzle like rain down my cheeks with joy and thanksgiving for William, Virginia and Laura, a proud father.
As the rain poured, I awoke at my usual 5:30am. Made a pot coffee, fed our two cats, took a shower, got dressed, shoes on ready to go. Where was I off to?
To the kitchen for my first cup of coffee, then to a chair to browse the Daily Memphian. Next the New York Times and for sure, the Sunday Routine column. Then it’s back and forth a few times mixing in some social media look-see.
Constant on this day weaving in and out of my thoughts were my three children. The status of my relationship with each one, past events and contemplating each of their futures. The good memories and reflections soon gave way to a tidal wave of soul wrenching: worry, anxiety, happiness, sadness, frustration with myself, the weight of the things I could’ve and should’ve done with them.
Mortal acts of not showing up for special occasions or physically present yet mentally absent are etched in my mind. A lifelong battle to repair or hide a glitch in my operating system (my mind) was taking place during most of these moments. As a result, indecision, paralysis and guilt often won out leaving me restless, defenseless and depressed.
Thoughts that they do not love me. How could they?
Thankfully, good memories began to flow again. Clinging like a buoy to each one, I reminded myself that the past is the past, and I can not control whether or not they love me. Only strive to be better, more present, more thoughtful daily until F’s Day #35 comes around.
Before I knew it, I was strolling through selected memories of my childhood and of my Dad. His absence from my life for twelve years, beginning at age ten, then resolving into years of little to no communication have certainly impacted my life for better or worse. Today, I have a thin strand of a relationship with my own father. I wish for it to be blissfully different, and sent him a H F’s Day text message. The silence from the other end makes it more purposeful to be there for my kids wholeheartedly.
Some not so good memories, traits and ways, whether learned or involuntarily ingrained early on and over time, as a result have rubbed off on me as a parent. I have attempted to buffer and hide these flaws, as well as, change. The reality is they have hindered my relationships with all three of my kids and I fight these to this day.
An early morning sweet Happy Father’s Day text from Virginia in Chattanooga and a couple of phone conversations, a loving text from William as he traveled by train from Chicago to Ann Arbor, and a late morning Hey Dad, Happy Father’s Day from Laura all meant so much to me.
F’s Day #34 was not spent celebrating, giving gifts or reminiscing as a family. Yet, it was all I could hope for. A special day marked by how thankful and how much it means to me to be a Father.
As the journey of being a Father began November 2, 1988 I have given all I am that William, Virginia and Laura, each one, knows, have always known and will always know, their father believes in them, that I have believed in them on their best day, worst day and everything in between.
Sometimes the void in your life is a purpose for your life.