“How are you and the kids doing
today?” It’s a valid question, but not one I want to answer.
“Fine,” I respond with a
superficial smile, and then we part ways and no one feels awkward. No one feels
as if he or she overstepped any boundaries. I know people are still concerned
about how we are dealing with the fatal blow we received a little over four
years ago. I know it takes a lot of courage to even broach the subject with us.
I appreciate every person who remembers and doesn’t just smile and pretend it
never happened.
It is difficult to explain how a
fatherless Father’s Day feels. I lost my dad nearly eight years ago, and I
still wish I could pick up the phone and call him. I miss his voice and his
ornery smile. I miss the love he had for
me. And then I think of my children who lost the most amazing daddy I have ever
known. They were still children. They had not had the opportunity to know him
as an equal. They still needed a father to guide them through the adolescent
years into adulthood.
I asked my oldest son today how
he was doing. His response was, “I don’t miss dad any more one day over the
next.” Perhaps not, but Father’s Day reminds us of our loss. I liken it to a
world class soccer player who has had a foot amputated. He will always miss the
loss of that foot. However, the loss is amplified every year as the World Cup
approaches. That is when he faces the reality that he will never play again. A
crucial part of the game has been painfully removed. Watching other players
kick and volley is too much; especially when those players take for granted the
blessings they still have.
If you still have your father,
please do not take that wonderful gift for granted. Love fully everyday
realizing life is a precious gift and you do not control when the game begins
or ends. A fatherless Father’s Day reminds us all of what we had and what we
have lost. So please, make that call or visit and treasure the time you still
have.
