Last Sunday I was reading both in the newspaper and online, the gushes of remembrance about Father’s Day. Pictures were viewed
and faded memories renewed, a time of fond reminiscences for many.
It’s been said that a woman should wisely observe how their lover’s
father treats his wife – supposedly an insight into probability of their own
experience ahead.
Sometimes a long-suffering wife tries hard to keep the atmosphere at
home smoothed over and on an even keel. Little girls, since grown up, should ideally
be able to recall happy times when daddy dandled her on his knee or ruffled her
curls.
My own father clearly loved his three children. We each had different
relationships of course and are lucky to have wryly amusing thoughts and
reminders of him in our adult lives. I have to think hard about the number of
years since my father died; it feels distant. Some days I miss being able to
bounce around an idea or ask for his opinion—he was always both decisive and
direct in his reply.
Our Dads are the hero figure we all want to look up to and revere. When
little boys grow to manhood and often fatherhood, they strive for greatness
too. Acknowledgement is intrinsic, affection and respect are reciprocal, and
acceptance should be heartfelt, not perfunctory. Rifts and estrangements are
numerous; if your Dad is alive and you know how to contact him, it’s not too
late. Reach out and let him know, with kindness, that you thought of him on
Father’s Day. Patching up relationships is a hard decision, but you’ll be happy
with yourself if you at least take that first step. Next year you too may only
have a memory.
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