Father’s Day is one of those holidays I mostly just sit
out, as it has no real meaning for me.
First of all, it strikes me as being a little on the
made-up side. Well, I guess all holidays are kind of made-up. But in this
instance it was a case of, “Hey, there’s a Mother’s Day; what about fathers?
They should have a day, too…” Cue the extended lower lip and toes scuffing the
dirt.
(Also—I think this one-day-a-year to honor people who
deserve your respect and appreciation the other 364 days as well is kind of a
false construct.)
My own dad was one of those people who should just never
have been involved in a family, and he wasn’t much, really. So I never had incentive
to mark the day even when he was alive.
But as I look around me I see a lot of men who take
fatherhood seriously. They make time, regardless of the circumstances; they pay
attention; they guide; they ask and answer questions—not just a few times, but come
day, go day; year after year. Their children are not trophies, encumbrances,
part-time entertainment or a second chance to live their own lives.
It is absolutely one of the hardest jobs there is, and I
believe that most fathers—even the ones who might not be considered raging
successes—are doing the best they can at it.
So today I give it up for all you guys, wherever you are, who are in it for
the long haul, even when it turned out to be not quite what you thought you
were signing up for. I hope you know who you are, and I hope your families do,
too.
2 comments:
Even Christie's views from a distance offer something profound.
I had one of those fathers as well, so I understand. Love what you said!
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