Father’s Day

June 21, 2020, you had to see this coming. My first Father’s Day without my Dad. I have to admit, it’s crazy day of mixed emotions, but I suppose that’s pretty much expected. To be completely honest, it’s the night before Father’s Day, and suddenly, I’m realizing just what this ‘holiday’ means to me.

Again, I’ll be honest, I didn’t really think much about it. The past few years, Father’s day has been me taking Dad a card and maybe a K-State t-shirt. We’d spend a couple of hours just hanging out, we may go for a walk, but Father’s Day was a non-event. But I think Dad understood that now that I was a father, it was more about me spending time with my family. I appreciated that. I didn’t realize I appreciated that until this moment, but I did appreciate it. That was my Dad…never about himself, always about others.

With this pandemic, it’s been especially hard because where my brother and I would normally ask Dad for direction, we no longer have that. Where often I pick up the phone to call Dad, I quickly realize those days are simply gone, and it sucks. Why aren’t you there anymore, Dad? I guess you are there, just not in the physical sense. I see you every day. Today, Mom mentioned she was praying her rosary, and she dozed off. When she woke up, she said she had a 2-3 second vision of Dad, smiling. I cried when she said that, and I cry as I type these words. What I would give to see his smiling face, flashing me the peace sign, with that devilish smile.

I was lucky to have just under 51 years with the man. I never appreciated him until I hit my thirties and I saw how he was with my kids. They were his world. He retired to become a full time grandpa. He took my boys to school. He picked them up at the bus stop. He took their backpacks and talked to them about their day. He made cookies with them. He helped with their homework. He went to their games, extreme cold or horrible heat. He was there. He helped my oldest understand what it meant to be left handed and how batters feared left handed pitchers. He loved all of his grandchildren. There was no doubt about that.

So, this Father’s Day, well, sucks. The freakin’ pandemic is keeping my brother from being here, so I’ll do church with Mom, then will end up at the cemetery at Dad’s crypt, thanking him for being so freakin’ amazing, and apologizing for being such a dumb ass. I’ll thank him for his love and support, and apologize for not following his example. I guess that’s pretty typical. We all think our parents don’t know shit until it’s too late.

I love you Dad. I’m sorry for the times I let you down. I appreciate how much you loved and cared for Richard and I. You did so right by so many. You were perfect. I can only hope one day my kids will feel towards me like I feel toward you.

Father’s Day hurts this year. Bottom line. I didn’t think it would, but it does. It cuts deep. It hurts more than I ever expected. Tomorrow, will be dedicated to you. I will do my best to take care of my family. I will do my best to take care of Mom like you did. I will reach out to my brother, and will pray that you are happy. We both will pray that you are with your loved ones, and no longer dealing with Parkinson’s.

Thank you for your guidance. Thank you for your love. Thank you for being the perfect example of love and care for family.

This father’s day sucks. Period. But we’ll get through it. Just like you’d expect us to. Don’t worry about Mom. You took amazing care of her. I can only hope to continue your standard. For those new Dads, and for those who have lost their Dads, you are not alone.

I love you Dad. And I sure as hell miss you.