Father's Day Musings
Happy Father's Day to all of the dads out there - especially to my kids' dad and my favourite guy, Kerry. Also to my incredible Father-In-Law, Stan, who is one of the best men out there. He loves me like one of his own, and is an incredible father and grandfather. To my brother-in-laws, Josh, Paul and Mark. I hope you have a wonderful day with your kids and that at least two of you get something made from macaroni or a hand painted tie! To my brother, Aryeh, who better NOT be a father yet, but is a great God-Father and uncle. He loves my kids fiercely, and is one of their favourite playmates. And to all of my friends who are fathers - enjoy your day!
However, there are some of us for which Father's Day takes on a whole other meaning. We are the Fatherless, or rather, the FatherLOSS. For some, its been many years, living their entire adult hood without him; for some, like me, almost ten years without hearing his laughter, and feeling his hugs, and for some of you, the wound is open and fresh. It is a terrible club to be in, but one that continues to grow. The days go by, and we learn to deal with our grief and sense of loss. I think of it as a hole. When you first loose your dad (or anyone close), the hole is huge and empty. As the days and months, and eventually years go by, happy events and moments fill the hole. But the hole is always there, and once in awhile, you fall in the hole. I still can't hear Three Little Birds by Bob Marley, without weeping. There is never a happy event that doesn't have some sadness to it. Celebrations are a little less shiny and sparkly. Holidays are a little less wonderful. Not because of who is there, or the food isn't as good, but because of who is NOT there.
But I have a confession. In the almost ten years of loosing my dad, and in the 3 years since loosing my Uncle Dov (who was a more like a brother to me but like a Zaidie to my kids), I have always wanted them back here, with us. However, right now, I am relieved that they are not. Seeing me dealing with cancer, surgery, treatment and recovery would pain them and stress them to the breaking point. They, like Kerry and Stan, would want to 'fix' me, and knowing that they couldn't, would destroy them. I see how stressed my mom is about of this, and I hate how it is affecting her. I know what this would do to my Dad, who loved me and protected me - but in a way that allowed me to be a strong, independent women. He would be devastated, even knowing that the prognosis is excellent. He would be jovial and full of boob jokes (none in good taste, but thats my dad), but he would be a mess. I hate seeing the worry on the people I love's faces, and I couldn't bare to see their faces right now.
But, my Dad and Uncle Dov are always with me. I know that they were with us at Zev's beautiful Bar Mitzvah last week, and while I won't get all hokey, they have been with me all along. Someone put in a good word for me, and I have a hunch on who it was!
So, while you are enjoying this beautiful day celebrating the men in your lives, pause to think of (or hug) the person or people in the group who don't have their dads, for whatever reason. We smile, we BBQ, we celebrate, but we are also a little less celebratory today. Some of us just fell in that hole.
Love to all who are also member of "The Club".
However, there are some of us for which Father's Day takes on a whole other meaning. We are the Fatherless, or rather, the FatherLOSS. For some, its been many years, living their entire adult hood without him; for some, like me, almost ten years without hearing his laughter, and feeling his hugs, and for some of you, the wound is open and fresh. It is a terrible club to be in, but one that continues to grow. The days go by, and we learn to deal with our grief and sense of loss. I think of it as a hole. When you first loose your dad (or anyone close), the hole is huge and empty. As the days and months, and eventually years go by, happy events and moments fill the hole. But the hole is always there, and once in awhile, you fall in the hole. I still can't hear Three Little Birds by Bob Marley, without weeping. There is never a happy event that doesn't have some sadness to it. Celebrations are a little less shiny and sparkly. Holidays are a little less wonderful. Not because of who is there, or the food isn't as good, but because of who is NOT there.
But I have a confession. In the almost ten years of loosing my dad, and in the 3 years since loosing my Uncle Dov (who was a more like a brother to me but like a Zaidie to my kids), I have always wanted them back here, with us. However, right now, I am relieved that they are not. Seeing me dealing with cancer, surgery, treatment and recovery would pain them and stress them to the breaking point. They, like Kerry and Stan, would want to 'fix' me, and knowing that they couldn't, would destroy them. I see how stressed my mom is about of this, and I hate how it is affecting her. I know what this would do to my Dad, who loved me and protected me - but in a way that allowed me to be a strong, independent women. He would be devastated, even knowing that the prognosis is excellent. He would be jovial and full of boob jokes (none in good taste, but thats my dad), but he would be a mess. I hate seeing the worry on the people I love's faces, and I couldn't bare to see their faces right now.
But, my Dad and Uncle Dov are always with me. I know that they were with us at Zev's beautiful Bar Mitzvah last week, and while I won't get all hokey, they have been with me all along. Someone put in a good word for me, and I have a hunch on who it was!
So, while you are enjoying this beautiful day celebrating the men in your lives, pause to think of (or hug) the person or people in the group who don't have their dads, for whatever reason. We smile, we BBQ, we celebrate, but we are also a little less celebratory today. Some of us just fell in that hole.
Love to all who are also member of "The Club".
Comments
Post a Comment