I never thought about being a father growing up. I guess I assumed I would, but it wasn’t something I thought about. I never dreamed of going fishing with my son or taking my daughter for ice cream.
And then it happened. I held a tiny person in my arms. Not someone else’s child, but mine. She was beautiful, amazing and delicate. And perfect. About a year later, I was back at the hospital, witnessing the birth of my second child. Also a girl. That experience was just as awesome as the first. And just as unique.
Just because they were both girls, were born so close together and raised essentially the same way you would think they would be a lot alike. And you would be mistaken. They are individuals who are turning into young ladies by the minute. And while I didn’t think it would be possible to say I love them more than I did that first day holding them in the hospital, I do. That’s the funny thing about a father’s love. It just keeps growing.
Father’s Day always seems to get short shrift in the pantheon of holidays. Mother’s Day gets a lot more attention. That is probably rightly so. Most dads I know shun the attention anyway. We don’t want presents or anyone to make a big deal out of things. But we do appreciate it all the same.
My older brother and I have talked about it many times over the years. We had a pretty good childhood. We would hear friends complain about this or that and think, hmmm, it wasn’t that way for us. Don’t get me wrong. We didn’t come from privilege or money. But what we did have was creative, encouraging environment that allowed us to explore and be the people we wanted to be. My brother is an engineer. My father an electrician and he probably would have been an engineer if circumstances were different when he was growing up. Needless to say, growing up as the “creative” one was a little strained at times. Still, I had the encouragement I needed to make my own way.
Ultimately, I think that is the key, to be understanding, accepting, patient and be there. Not that my dad didn’t tell me “no” from time to time. He did. I’m certain of it. The funny thing is, I really don’t remember those times. I remember a dad who showed me things, gave me chances to get my hands dirty and understand how things worked.
On this Father’s Day I want to say thanks dad. I really do appreciate you always being there and being behind me even if you didn’t always understand where I was headed. I pray every day that I will be able to do as good of a job with my girls as you did with me.
Happy Father’s Day!.
