It’s days like this that I really miss my dad.
Father’s Day is hard for me. My dad died nearly 17 years ago, and there are times I wish I still had his counsel. When hard times come up, I’ve always asked myself what Dad would do, or what advice he’d give. If I sit and think about it long enough, I usually am able to come up with something. Maybe not dad advice, but it works for me.
Next month is his birthday (July 18th). Another hard day for me. Considering the year he was born (1915), he’d be over 100 years old. When I was younger, I honestly thought he’d make it that far. After all, his sister, my Aunt Elena, will be 98 in August. She’s not in the best health, but she did something right to live that long. Maybe it was never getting married, or the traveling she used to do. I don’t know.
I know I gave both my parents fits. I was the wild one, the one who never lived up to their expectations. I was the one Dad always worried about.
My kids father is a poor excuse of a man. He didn’t want sons, he wanted girls. I’m kinda glad we didn’t have any. I leave the decision to call him on Father’s Day (and his birthday in December) up to the boys. They don’t have fond memories of their childhood, and I accepted part of the blame for that. I tried to make their lives normal (or as normal as I saw it), but their father made that impossible.
I miss my dad, no question. I wanted a man like him, instead of the jerk I got.
I came close a few years ago. But it was not to be. RIP Alex- miss you.
So on Father’s Day, I will think of all the dads who were/are there for their kids, including my own. This is your day. And I will talk to my dad in my head and in my heart.
Miss you, Dad.
I’m Stef and this is where it’s@ !~