Father's Day

Okay, so a blog is an online journal and this one was created so that I could express myself to myself and be honest, no matter who was lurking or knowingly visiting. I give the following expressive thoughts out to the Internet knowing full well that their content may sting certain individuals and stir emotions. My intent is to journal my true feelings so that I can realize who I am in a more visual way. I take the emotions and thoughts that rumble tumble through my body on a daily basis put them on a canvas and arrange them to make sense. These thoughts are who I was and am in the current - there is room for improvement.

Father's Day has become a mixed bag of emotions for me over the years. When I became old enough to recognize the holiday and feel about it, I was usually saddened by the fact that I didn't have a dad around the house to give gifts to or snuggle up with and appreciate. I ALWAYS recognized the father's strength in my mother though. And I'm sure it made my mom's stomach churn, but I always wanted to get my dad a card and/or gift. My parents were never married and to hear stories about their relationship, they were both somewhat in love with each other in the beginning, but circumstances got in the way. My Dad moved to another state for work when I was born and so began a long distance relationship that I never asked for. I pined for him for many years. I held out hope that one day they would realize they really did love each other and I was worthy of breaking up other marriages and uprooting jobs for them to be together again...and live happily ever after. The day arrived, no matter how I begged for it not to, when I did know that it was a fairly tale I'd created in my mind and would never be a reality. It wasn't until I was already a mother before my own Mom told me about her truest feelings of despair and defeat regarding my Dad. Oh, she'd make snide remarks about him here and there, but she mostly let me make my own opinion. As I sit here today thinking about the man I married, what a good and present father he is, I have NO IDEA how my mom raised three children all by herself.

And of us three kids, my dad was the most caring and available. His side of the family was always available to me too and they lived in the same city, so I was able to develop that other half of who I was. Whereas my brothers really did not. Hell, in fact, my youngest brother's dad refused to even admit he was his dad (uh, DNA test proved otherwise, the big jerk), let alone call him or spend time with him. I could always pick up the phone and talk to my dad if I wanted to, and he and his wife always sent cards and gifts on the appropriate holidays. It wasn't at all as it should have been, but that's life, right? Shit happens...families divide...other marriages, other kids, other cities...and we kids deal with it. My mom was REALLY strong, so I had a solid role model and a strict parent to keep me from going either way. She set the road before me and lit the way. I think it was easier for me than it was my brothers. I had the role model of the same gender to be like. They had to find fathers in other men and in our city - good role models were hard to come by. Our maternal grandfather didn't like us, never spent ANY time with us except what was forced on him. Our maternal uncle was a drug addict and a terrible father himself...no help there. So, I blame the fathers for their sons' lack of direction.

A father is irreplaceable. A mother can do her absolute best and raise awesome men, but there is something that men give to their children. I watch Scott with my babies and it brings my soul to the surface. I KNOW it's right and good that he's such a great provider, available daily to them. He reads bedtime books, tells Abby how beautiful she is, wrestles with the older ones, cooks their dinners, wipes baby butts, makes them feel safe. He's in there, in the trenches...being there for them. It's as it should be. It's especially clear when I watch Zachary with him. Sometimes Scott will lay on the floor to watch TV with a pillow folded in half under his head. Zachary will go get a floor pillow, tuck that damn thing in half just like Scott and lay down right beside him mimicking his every gesture. BOYS NEED THEIR DADS!!! I could do every single thing right as a mother but if Scott wasn't here with me, being the male role model...Zachary will not be the full man he should be. I'm convinced of it.

So - on this 30th Father's Day of my life, I really do appreciate that my dad was as available as he was while I was growing up. I still feel the sting of not having that half of my parents around (and that includes my step-mother whom I've grown to love and appreciate over the years. Her wart fell off several years back and I saw the woman she really is. *wink*) but as I said before...life is what it is and I have to deal with the present. I give honor to my Dad for being all that he could be, but my truest, deepest honor is held out for my husband, the greatest Daddy I've ever seen. Watching him be all the things I wished I had growing up somehow fills in the gaps for me.

And I'd be a terrible child of God if I didn't recognize today His holy influence in my life. I can look back through my history and see all the places where something happened, a decision, an event that I had no real control over and yet brought me to where I am today...safe, loved, comfortable...and especially becoming more of a whole person in Him.

Psalm 68 1 - 5

May God arise, may his enemies be scattered;
may his foes flee before him.

As smoke is blown away by the wind,
may you blow them away;
as wax melts before the fire,
may the wicked perish before God.

But may the righteous be glad
and rejoice before God;
may they be happy and joyful.

Sing to God, sing praise to his name,
extol him who rides on the clouds ^[a]—
his name is the LORD—
and rejoice before him.

A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows,
is God in his holy dwelling.