Happy Father’s Day…
You know, I was going to compose a long, meandering essay on today (Sunday) and how it’s the first Father’s Day since my dad died last August. A friend of mine caught me on AIM and asked how I was doing, almost ten days after his passing. I’m doing fine, I replied, and my mom is spending the day someplace in Russia, on a trip with her former co-workers. She’s had to move on and so do I.
There should be some kind of catharsis in this day, where we appropriate attention, respect and no doubt expense for greeting cards. Like my sister pointed out in the euology at the funeral, my family isn’t a touchy-feely one and if my dad were still with us, I wouldn’t be hugging him and getting all teary eyed like in “Field of Dreams.” I afforded him respect and we shared many a bottle of red wine in the last several years. I did not pick up his other passion, golf, but that goes to show you can’t always get what you want.
I wonder if I should have something more profound to say but I just don’t, not past 3:00 AM. Maybe some other time.