Here are the many postings I’ve made of meaningful moments in the recent years when I’ve not had a living father, sorted oldest to most recent.
- A reflection on Father’s Day
- I got a letter from my dad today…
- Happy birthday, Dad. Our lives have many parallels.
- New Romantics: Why I don’t feel sad my Dad died.
- Father’s Day 2016: Why do we confine love?
As I typed the words “not had a living father” I laughed and actually semi-chocked on the swallow of Diet Coke I had just taken, unfortunately spewing a little bit of it on to my just cleaned desk. Ah well.
My reaction is actually that visceral when I try to say that “I don’t have a living father.” I do.
Every day I feel his presence, I get new insight or wisdom, and more so than ever when he was alive, I’m trying to get closer and closer to him, the dream I know he had for my life, and God.
If he were alive today none of that would be happening, or at least not with the momentum that it is. For the first time in my life I know what my values are – and that came only because I had to define who I was without my father there to tell me.
I know for sure I would never have doled out this much affection towards him while he was alive, and that’s okay. My mother sure wants more affection from me, and she deserves it. I struggle to give it.
We did a very adolescent dance the other day at my niece’s graduation. Starving and without access to food for at least two more hours, I begged my mother for a caramel apple sucker from her purse (those who know my mother and me should appreciate how hungry I must have been to eat anything out of my mother’s purse to begin with…).
She offered the sucker, but only if I gave her a kiss.
I responded that I was nearly 40 and didn’t need to kiss my mother.
I should have kissed my mother.
I really wish I could end every day knowing that every single person in my life who I love felt my love and appreciation in a palpable way. I’m a long way away from achieving that.
There are some moments in life when you look at all that you’ve done and the many ways you’ve tried to improve, and after a brief bit of acknowledging the progress, you settle back in to the fact that it still is not nearly enough.