Last week one of my daughters asked me what I had planned for my husband, her father, on Father’s Day. I replied, perhaps too quickly, “He’s not my father; that’s your job.”
As I said this, I had a sort of out of body experience. Looking down at this snapping woman, I thought to myself, “Well, that was a bit harsh. What’s that about?” But, shying from self-recrimination, I thought nothing more of it.
Until just the other day. We had a window replaced in my study and this necessitated my clearing off my desk. As I boxed up the pictures of my family, I noticed that there were a lot of my father, eleven to be exact. “That’s a little disproportional,” my out of body self observed; and with Father’s Day approaching I began thinking about my dad.
Since he died nine years ago, I have not liked Father’s Day very much. Strolling past the Father’s Day cards in the supermarket, I feel I don’t belong.
Father’s Day can generate very personal reflection; we may not be fathers, but we all have or had one. It’s completely natural that we think about our fathers and our relationships with them. This isn’t always easy. Some people had, let’s face it, lousy fathers. For them this holiday tends to dredge up a bilious surge of regret, self-pity, anger, denial. Some had fathers who were unavailable — physically or emotionally. Some have just lost their dads and for them today is piercing.
Many men are wonderful fathers, they are present and loving and supportive and today is a time to say thank you and have fun.
It became evident last week that, because of work commitments and distance, none of our kids would be home today. So it forced me to stop thinking about my father and turn instead to the father of my children. It seems entirely fitting for me to go all out for him even though it is just the two of us. One thing that stands out for me today is that our sons are spectacular fathers to our grandchildren; and they certainly didn’t learn it from me.
How well we parent is a gift not only to our children but to our communities as well. So supporting young fathers should be a priority for us all. First time dads are encouraged to participate in the pregnancy phase of this new endeavor, but once the baby is born they may feel a bit neglected. I never had postpartum depression, but we joke that my husband did. Suddenly the baby was all about nursing and I think he felt left out. Or maybe, as number four and then number five arrived, overwhelmed. A distant train whistle would blow and you could see his eyes glaze over with yearning.
I am grateful for my new window into Father’s Day; it feels more about the future than the past, more about what we can do than what has happened to us.
