Father's Day
Weird. This is just about the first time I've ever had any occasion to celebrate Father's Day for any reason, and especially because I'm somebody's father. Growing up with a single mother, the only masculine figure in my life was my grandfather, who was remote and unsentimental. Since I married into the N*** clan, there's at least been my step-father, who is in all ways an admirable dude, but it's not quite the same to, as an adult, find one's self for the first time with someone filling the role of 'father' as it is to grow up with one.
And leaving the house this morning, I kissed my sleeping daughter, who was impossibly perfect. Everything she does is delightful, the softness of her hair is astonishing, her cheeks are so delicate that there aren't enough nerve-endings on my rough fingers to discern the exact difference between touching her and not touching her.
I presume that, once upon a time, I was similarly innocent and at least a little bit delightful. What kind of man just walks away like that? What kind of man goes an entire lifetime without knowing anything about his son? I just don't understand, because I can't imagine a world in which I don't love Eowyn. Who is so broken that they don't love their children?
For my part, I don't want "Father's Day" (an invented holiday anyway) to be about my family doing honor or service to me. I want it to be the day I remember how fortunate I am to be the one that stopped that ripple of neglect and abandonment from spreading out in the world. I can't stop the stone from being thrown, and who knows how many generations back the initial splash happened. But I can start a new ripple, one that will gladly be carried on by all my descendants.
And leaving the house this morning, I kissed my sleeping daughter, who was impossibly perfect. Everything she does is delightful, the softness of her hair is astonishing, her cheeks are so delicate that there aren't enough nerve-endings on my rough fingers to discern the exact difference between touching her and not touching her.
I presume that, once upon a time, I was similarly innocent and at least a little bit delightful. What kind of man just walks away like that? What kind of man goes an entire lifetime without knowing anything about his son? I just don't understand, because I can't imagine a world in which I don't love Eowyn. Who is so broken that they don't love their children?
For my part, I don't want "Father's Day" (an invented holiday anyway) to be about my family doing honor or service to me. I want it to be the day I remember how fortunate I am to be the one that stopped that ripple of neglect and abandonment from spreading out in the world. I can't stop the stone from being thrown, and who knows how many generations back the initial splash happened. But I can start a new ripple, one that will gladly be carried on by all my descendants.