If you think about it, who amongst us doesn’t experience a little sadness on days like Fathers Day? Whether we’re missing someone who’s passed, mixed up in an estranged relationship, or maybe some of us have never had a father.
How do we choose to celebrate a Hallmark holiday when our very own isn’t perfect, or is even majorly flawed? However the hell we want.
So, I’m having a silver can of beer just after noon, getting ready to look at old VHS tapes, and wearing sweatpants all day long (like that’s different than any other day).
Because of the tattered cards that were dealt to us, Fathers Day is another in our collection of dictating dates which also include Memorial Day, birthdays, death dates, etc. etc. etc. . . Some go to the cemetery on each of those dates, some have parties and celebrations, and others will spend it with strangers all day long, stifling their natural smiles and laughs.
We did all of that in the beginning, but now choose to be comfortable amongst each other. Comfortable enough to cry or laugh and not be watched. Comfortable enough to talk about Roger and share our private family moments. Comfortable enough to finally, after almost thirteen years, to do whatever the hell we want today and on other date days.
So, I plugged in the VCR and braced myself with this silver can of beer, and we will make pizzas and look at videos of Roger as a young dad, my sons as little boys, and maybe even me before I knew what true despair and turmoil ever were.
So, instead of wondering what would have been, what we would have done today, gifted Roger with, or what he would have wanted for his Fathers Day meal (cheeseburgers), we are going to celebrate today as what is and not what was. We’re going to face it all.
Teresa Forester Adams 