I usually avoid posting a Father's Day post. In fact, I've written the words Father's day on my blog exactly one time before today. I wrote
this post in 2008, about our Father's Day at the park.
While I've mostly been able to avoid blogging about it, I certainly have not been able to avoid acknowledging the existence of the day. There are cards, facebook posts, Twitter tweets, blog posts everywhere I turn. Five little and not so little children eagerly draw pictures, make cakes and shout "happy Fader's day" to daddy (and sometimes mommy too). This crew loves to celebrate daddy every chance they get!
No, there is no avoiding the day. Neither is there any avoiding the cluster of emotions that come with it for me. A roller-coaster day of sadness, joy, thankfulness, confusion, and much more.
Each year I consider blogging and two questions always stop me and I bury it for another year.
Who do I honor and how?
Perhaps the obvious and best (maybe easiest) answer is to devote a post to my husband. He's definately my favorite dad in the world. On a regular basis, I watch this man as he interacts with his children...our children. I see his complete and overwhelming love for them and my heart soars. He's away from home a lot, working hard to provide for our brood and yet every spare moment of his life is given to them, to us.
In nearly twelve years of parenthood he has not once uttered a grumble or complaint about the amount of work, time, energy or money required to raise five children. He works all day and then often comes home and lends a hand to cleaning up the dishes or doing the bedtime routine. He meets each kids challenges with one goal in mind...to help them meet their full potential.
He gives up weekend after weekend to participate in various activities so our children know he supports their passions even if he doesn't necessarily share them. He tosses a football for hours because Rocklin loves football. No matter, he claims to be "the kid picked last in gym class" and he's really not interested in sports. Countless hours have been spent traipsing through woods, walking on trails helping Jerald add birds to his life list. Despite the fact he really isn't interested in birds. He will eat anything Magdalyn bakes for him and declare it the best ever and he means it every time...even when it's not chocolate. He has played checkers, tic-tac-toe and several made up games a million times in the past year just so he can connect with Aaron and be in his world. He tickles, squishes, wrangles, wrestles, bounces, spins, chases and bearhugs Parker every time he's asked. Even if it's a dozen times an hour and he's exhausted.
He reads the bible to them, he prays with and for them, he teaches them to make church a priority. He loves Jesus and leads our children to Him.
He is a constant example to me of complete, unselfish, unconditional, unending love. I see this in every area of his life, but I see it most as he fulfills the calling of daddy. I can't imagine this parenting journey without your support, input, example, encouragement,leadership and love. I hope it's a great day for you, Kev!
Another obvious, but much more complicated answer to my question is to honor my dad.
At age 30, I met my biological father for the first time. I'm glad I had that opportunity and I'd welcome his involvement in my life. However, he's not my dad. He has no desire to be such and he gave that chance up years ago. Still, I think of him on Father's day. I pray he finds the peace he's searched for and never found all of these years.
My mother married when I was around 2yrs old to the man that I have always called dad. He died when I was 11 and those years in between were far from a picture perfect childhood.
I recently posted about his death and I wish things had been different. I'd love to see what his involvement in my life would look like today. Would he love being a grandfather to my children? Would he give them horsie rides on his back and share his frozen m&m's with them? Would he invite them over on Saturday mornings to have "kiddie coffee"? There are many questions and not enough answers about this part of my life, but I'm at peace with that, finally.
I could pay tribute to other father figures in my life over the years...uncles like my
Uncle Artie...my
maternal Grandfather, my rock and a man I miss every single day. I'm thankful to have several men that contributed to my life and all of them get at least a little of my thoughts on Father's day.
I think more than anything, this year I want to publicly acknowledge a man that before now has received little recognition from me (privately or publicly), yet aside from Kev, I think he deserves it the most.
Technically he's my step-dad.
His mom once said to me, "the only steps in this family are the ones leading out the door" and I've never forgotten that. I introduce him to others as my dad, but I've never called him that outside of introductions. I call him Bruce, or Grampie.
Today, on this father's day 2011...
Bruce, I want you to know that you are my dad whether I call you dad or not.
I didn't meet you until I was 16 and I hated you.
I was a rebellious brat, full of anger.
Nearly grown, used to making up my own rules and out of nowhere you laid down the law.
Keep your room clean.
Don't swear at your mother.
Ask before inviting friends over.
You will be grounded if you miss curfew.
I thought you were insane.
Well, actually I thought a lot more than that, but I won't post it on my blog.
I moved out, determined to never speak to you again.
I finished high school, went off to college, moved back home and started dating Kev before I ever began to even attempt a relationship with you.
I didn't ask you to walk me down the aisle at my wedding because you weren't my dad and didn't deserve that honor. Almost thirteen years later, I still regret my attitude about that.
Then I was pregnant with Jerald and everything changed.
I changed.
You changed.
Our relationship changed.
You loved my son before he was ever born. Wholely, completely, he was your grandson and you couldn't be prouder.
What I had failed to see for years, was suddenly very obvious, you had loved me all along too.
We don't always see eye to eye and our personalities sometimes clash, but there is not a doubt in my mind that you couldn't love me more even if you were my biological father.
In June 1995, you didn't just marry my mother...you took on her three adult/near adult children and have loved us like your own. You have no idea how much that means to me.
You have nine grandchildren now, with Jerald being the oldest at almost 12. You love every single one immensely and you'd give each of them the moon in a heartbeat if they asked for it.
I'm glad my children know you as the best Grampie in the world.
I'm glad my mom finally has the love she deserves.
More than anything, I'm glad for the healing in our relationship and it's an honor to call you my dad.
Happy Father's day, I love you.
Summer 2010: Grampie with six of his nine grandchildren
