happy father’s day
The Hallmark holidays were never that much of a deal in my family growing up, and my GAF level as a father toward them has been consistently low as well. Sure, a card is nice. Sure, a small gift is nice. I’m happy with a “happy Father’s Day,” now let’s go about the business of the day.
But this is my first Father’s Day without my own father. He died in January. The situation definitely lends itself to some introspection.
Oh, God, I hear you cry, Please no more introspection about your father. We get it; you guys had a strained relationship, and you’re trying to do better with your own kids. Can you please get back to stepping in cat puke and creepy grocery store encounters?
Well, okay, but just this–when my grandfather died, my dad felt lost. We talked about what he was supposed to do now, and who he was supposed to be, and it was the closest we ever came to a meaning-of-life discussion. I understand him a little better now; I don’t think he ever found what he was looking for then. I don’t think any of us fathers ever do. The greatest trick your father ever pulled was convincing the world he knew what he was doing. But it’s okay. Dad jokes get us pretty close. Toward that end, one of my dad’ favorites:
Q: How do you call a mallard duck?
A: <cup hands around mouth, yell> HEY, MALLARD DUCK!
Thank you. Happy Father’s Day.