Father’s Day Blues
My Most Melancholy Holiday
I find myself on the cusp of fatherhood feeling pretty surreal on this once dreaded holiday; I feel compelled to offer this short letter to anyone who needs it.
For young boys who cry at scenes of fathers playing catch with their sons.
For little girls who don’t know what a kind man looks or sounds like.
For fathers who have lost a child.
For every son and daughter who feels or has felt unwanted, undeserving of love.
For the mothers who have unexpectedly found themselves playing both roles.
For the empty seats at concerts, games, parent/teacher conferences, counseling sessions, weddings, and funerals.
For sons and daughters whose conception took place non-consensually.
For those whose faces reminded their mothers of unspeakable violence.
For men who have seldom seen masculinity modeled healthily in their personal lives.
I offer this small condolence. This digital hug. This textual tear wipe. I pray this finds whoever needs it.
We are still here. We are still healing. Even when we make incremental progress, it is progress nonetheless.
Forgiveness does not have to include reconciliation. One can allow the vitriol and bitterness to pass without inviting it to return. The only forgiveness that requires reconciliation is forgiveness of oneself.
The love of a father is precious and irreplaceable to a child. The vacancy its absence leaves cannot be filled with material objects, money, sex, drugs, or external affirmation. When those years pass, they are gone. The best that can be done is to learn to cope, and for fathers and fathers-to-be, how to do better.
