Happy Father’s Day!
Today’s post will be a bit shorter than some, but as with all of my Sunday Funday posts, it’s meant to highlight something different from the usual topics covered here at Flyover Country.
My mother has been gone for nearly a decade now. My father, in his 80’s, still soldiers on. Her absence leaves a hole in his life (and mine), that’s obvious at times, not so obvious at others.
I was closer to my mom growing up. As the youngest of three brothers, she quit teaching shortly after marrying my dad, had us boys, and stayed home until my oldest brother graduated high school, and I was finishing 5th grade. During the first 10 or so years of my life, my mother was there every day while my father worked.
Naturally, I’d be closer to mom, then, having spent so much time with her during those formative years. My dad loomed larger than life during this time period. Excitement would build as it would get closer to the time that he’d come home from work. In some ways, it’s like I didn’t appreciate all the time spent with my mother, almost taking for granted that she was there all the time, while anxiously awaiting dad “getting home”.
Since her passing, it’s like life has come full circle in some ways. With her gone, it’s like my childhood in reverse, with dad being the prominent parent in my life and mom’s absence looming large. Thankfully, as the years pile up for me, I’ve managed to attain some wisdom with such things.
I realize how short time can be.
I also understand that sometimes, it’s best to appreciate what you have instead of longing for what you don’t.
As a child, you tend not to appreciate and relish those moments because you assume that they’ll always be there. You take for granted certain interactions and experiences because of your childhood ignorance and immaturity.
I don’t have any regrets. I don’t mourn what my grade-school aged self missed out on with mom because what child understands that?
I can look back at that now, through the lens of maturity and experience and grasp in this moment how meaningful that time was.
And it offers me some lessons for today.
Thanks to that wisdom, I’ve acted more intentionally in my relationship with dad. I reach out more frequently. Dad doesn’t text and only recently got a smartphone, but I call him. I also occasionally send him pictures or videos of the kids via text, which he won’t respond to, but I know he gets them.
I spend more time with him. I’m encouraging to come to our house. He comes to my daughter’s basketball games. We have coffee every other Friday. I go to my hometown to see him at least once per month. I take him to medical appointments where they don’t recommend he drive afterwards.
I don’t know how much time is left with my dad, anymore than my daughter (or my fiancee’s daughters) would know how much time she has left with me.
I appreciate him more. I’ve found as I grow older that while I share more traits with my mom than my dad, we still have a lot in common. Our political philosophies align. I enjoy hearing about family stories and learning about our history, and dad enjoys sharing them. I appreciate dad’s love of guns, even though, I’ve never owned one myself.
He actually blew me off for coffee this week to travel to pick up a gun he won in a raffle recently.
I took it in stride. LOL
As I’ve invested more in our relationship over the last few years, I realize that some of the best parts of me come from my dad, along with some of the bad, and that makes him more relatable than I realized or appreciated as a young boy.
Today’s post isn’t to serve as a tribute to my dad, since that feels like something you do after they’re gone. It’s meant to serve as an acknowledgment…an appreciation of the role he’s played in my life so far, and the role he’ll continue to play moving forward.
Some of you reading this are dad’s. Some of you still have your dad in your life, and for others, your father is lost in either a physical or metaphysical sense. My fiancee lost her father as a teenager, and some of you are estranged from your own as you read this today.
Whatever the circumstances of your relationship with your dad or whether he’s still here, hopefully, as you take time on this Sunday, which doubles as Father’s Day, you’ll consider where you came from. If you’re a father of kids, you’ll consider what you have to offer them. Acknowledge and appreciate the good, the bad, and the ugly that comes with relationships between parents and children.
And as always, make it a Sunday Funday.