Thoughts on Fathers' Day

My own father died nearly 55 years ago, so it’s no longer a big deal that he’s not around; he would be closing in on 100 years old by now, so most likely gone anyway. I have to admit, though, that I do allow myself to feel a little bit sorry for myself on Fathers’ Day. He was a good and loving dad, funny and gentle and generous with his three daughters. I like to assume that he would have continued to be a positive influence on my life and that we would have grown to have a close relationship as I grew older. Why not imagine the best that could be? Who really knows?

I was only thirteen when he was suddenly just… not there. He died in a horrible one-car accident. At age thirteen, I think I must have been in love with my dad. (Perhaps at age fourteen I would have found fault in everything he said and did, but we never had to suffer through that.) I lived for the times when he was at home. He was a traveling salesman, gone for a couple of days or a couple of weeks at a time, depending on the customers on his regular route, and our lives were built on “when Daddy was coming home”.

Needless to say, there was a huge, empty hole in my life when he died (as there was in my mother’s and sisters’ lives). Home never meant the same after he was gone, and though my mother tried valiantly, her own grief overshadowed her ability to give me what I needed. I finished high school and went many miles away to college before I began to discover who I might be without a father.

One of the reasons I have the husband that I do is that I felt he would be a good father. Observing him with his nieces and nephews, I realized that they liked him and laughed a lot, a big selling point. He had an impossibly high standard to live up to, because in my mind it was as though my own father had achieved sainthood, but I think he did a pretty good job of being a father to our four offspring.

Now our kids are grown, and one of them has fathered children of his own. As far as I can tell, and recognizing a certain bias, I would say he is a wonderful father. I recognize, however, that it’s horribly unfair to give any man a grade on how well he rates as a father. Even his own children have impossible expectations, and that goes both ways… some fathers have impossible expectations of their children as well. So it’s a good thing we have Fathers’ Day when they can be treated in special ways… given gifts and hugs and thanks… receive cards and emails and phone calls.

Personally, I think it should be called Dads’ Day, though, because it’s easy to father a child but much harder to be a good dad.