Today is (almost was) Father’s Day.
I cooked. I baked. I thought of many things. I sent out a few messages. I didn’t even post anything about my Dad or Father’s Day or …
this year has been different. very different.
My Dad is getting older. He is still doing his best to fend for me in the way he knows and thinks best. I’m 44. I see it. I think about it. I think about parents and how they do their best for children.
Do I appreciate it enough? Do I show enough appreciation? Do they know that my gestures of appreciation are about appreciating them?
I should ask.
I walk around with a sadness too. For some of the fathers I know who are struggling today and some of the children I know who struggle with this day. Reasons vary.
I baked pudding. Haven’t baked this one in ages. I know my Dad appreciates is. He LOVES BAKED PUDDING with custard if course. I made a big one. Gave some to the students next door too … too much for us to finish. Was that my gesture of appreciation? Cooking a traditional meal with a favourite dessert?
I think it was.
Shoutout to my Dad, my Grandpa, my brothers and every other father figure I know … you shape the lives of your children … and every person you (have) come in contact with. Know that. You are loved and appreciated. Always.
I watch my brothers and their children. I’m fascinated by the relationships they have cultivated … the mutual understanding … the little quirks … the minuscule and gigantic similarities and differences. I love it. They are fathers. My brothers are fathers. They have become the dads of the kids they once were … with all the mischief and the jokes. The decisions that they’ve made in how to be a Dad has been fed by the experiences they’ve had, my Dad and all the other father figures in their lives. This journey as the observing sister and aunt has been amazing.
To my Dad and my brothers. Heroes. Superheroes.