Ruminating on
Father's Day
by
Dick Prosapio © 2006
Sure I wish my father was around to
be the recipient of the things I'd get him for Father's Day.
Appropriate things, now that I know what he'd really want. Of course
I didn't discover what those things were until I began using them
myself. Things like cordless drills, a Skil saw, a laser level (fun
concept but actually useless) a good set of screwdrivers or small
ratchet set. Hell! If I thought it would bring him back I'd buy him
a Subaru Forester. He'd love it.
"My father who art in heaven,
hallowed be thy name."
Yeah, I miss him. He was a good guy.
I've received some nice cards from my
daughters this year and, frankly, they mean more to me than
merchandise I can't use. I used to send cards to my dad, and
heartfelt letters too, but he didn't respond to sentiment well or at
all. A hug yes, a card or letter, no response. He did like the
"Lonesome Dove" movies I sent him. They prompted one of just three
letters I ever received from him; "Thanks Dick. This is the best
western I've ever seen."
That was about it. And, for many guys
I've known, three more letters than they ever received.
The longest letters he ever wrote
were to my mother when he was trying to get her to stop smoking and
marry him. She finally did of course ...marry him that is. It took
two heart attacks at 80+ to get her to stop smoking though.
We've all heard the statistics about
how Mother's Day is a big dollar producer for florists and
restaurants contrasted with Father's Day, which elicits the most
collect phone calls. And we, fathers, know about how the most press
we get is bad press and distortions of statistics re. "absent
fathers" and abusive parents. Let's just let all of that rest. For
me, I've got five daughters, I once had two (step) sons but they are
lost to time, but my five daughters are the best around and none of
them could call me "absent".
Yes, there have been "problems". God
knows I've produced a ream of pages and buckets of emotional
"processing" about every one of them. One thing for sure, they will
never say that I was "unavailable" or "emotionally distant". No,
we've been in the trenches together for the entire journey.
These days, four out of the five have
sent me heartfelt messages, the "I love you Dad!" kind. The fifth is
currently obsessed with a boy friend so I don't expect to really
hear from her for a few more years but she'll come 'round I know.
And I've got a bit of work to do on
my end about her as well. She's going through the complex weeds of
middle teenagery these days and no light beam is evident in that
tunnel yet.
I never thought I'd be a good father.
I had no real training for the job and there were no great models
for how to do the thing in my family. Outside of the usual one I,
and everyone else I knew, grew up with the go-to-work and
fix-things-around-the-house and keep-the-car-running model.
Oh! And the
"Wait-till-your-father-comes-home thing.
And I know about the horror stories
but that wasn't my model so I'm not going to get into that.
So, I didn't start out as a good
father, I've just staggered into it and it has taken a hell of a
long time and two marriages-with-kids. I am VERY grateful that I've
lived long enough to get it all straight so that I know I won't be
leaving any seriously wounded bodies behind.
Not that I'm planning an exit here
understand but I know that all these progeny haven't been left
limping because I didn't do my job ...finally at least.
That's a good feeling. Good to feel
that one day one of my kids, maybe even all of them will say, "Yeah
I miss him. He was a good guy."
That's Father's Day present enough
for me for all time.
