It’s Father’s Day. It’s a tough one for me. My dad died 13 years ago.
I woke up and read my email from the Writer’s Almanac. There was a poem called “Yesterday” by W.S. Merwin. I cried. It was 6:45 am.
I made coffee. Got the paper. Read the article by John Kass “A Father’s Day Gift to Dream About”. I cried again. It was 8:28 am.
I miss my Dad.
I want to make this day special for my husband but I guess when it boils down to it, I just want my Dad.
In the end, when we are in our 90s, do we still just want our Dads?
Am I always going to feel like a little girl, dying to sit on his lap one more time?
Am I ever going to love this day? Am I ever going to be able to just remember, without tears?
Maybe if I hadn’t read the poem…or the paper.
Then I read the quote above and I was reminded. Reading the poem or the book or the paper is always a frightening proposition. If the writing is good, when I’m done reading, I will be different. I will remember or discover or realize or awaken. If the writing is good, I will be changed. This is why I read. This is why I write.
Some of you never knew your Dads. Some of you had Dads that were mean or absent or drunk or troubled or angry or philandering or violent. I’m sorry. This day is probably not easy for you either.
When my Dad passed away, my mom told me and my brothers, “We are not going to feel sorry for ourselves. God gave us this beautiful man and we are blessed.”
I told myself that then and I tell myself that today and every Father’s Day. It’s true. I am blessed. But then why can’t I stop crying?
©2011 Sue Bidstrup, Great Big Yes™ All Rights Reserved
Oh! I am so happy to see that photograph again, what a great day it was! Your proud Dad and poor Dad (the bar tab), ha ha. He wouldn’t have it any other way. Yes, there are a million ways to celebrate our Dads and to each of us they are the #1 in our lives.
Thank you for the heartfelt reminder.
Beautiful, Sue. I still remember the day your dad died — you were in the GOO office for a training session, I think, and I remember hearing the news after you left. I felt so sad for you because you were new to motherhood & had to feel that loss. I recall taking our kids to the play area at Northbrook Court a few weeks later and you spoke so honestly about your feelings, your loss and all that he had taught you by his actions. It’s a gift that you still feel so strongly about him, and that you are able to share your thoughts. Hope the day was a good one. (PS — I love John Kass’s columns, too, esp the sentimental ones!)
Sus.. your Dad is smiling down just like in picture above after he saw and read what you wrote. Love it! Am
Always a sentimental day for me as well my friend…but we both know our dads are watching over us….
Oh Sue…I don’t know what to say…Your honesty always gets to me….it opens doors..it opens conversations….it may even build a bridge to those who don’t even know how to express what they are feeling…I am so grateful for my awesome Dad and your words make my proud to have you as my friend…K
Ok, you made me cry. What a great picture. So much unconditional love. You can see he not only loved you more than life itself but thought you were the most important and special girl in the world. Dads can make you feel like that. Feel blessed he gave that to you. 🙂
Sue….what a wonderful, sweet picture!