Father's Day

A couple of days ago, it was Father’s Day. I wanted to write a post about it, but just couldn’t bring myself to do it. I wasn’t really sure why, and it took me some time to realize that Father’s Day was a lot more complicated this year.

For me, it’s been a sad holiday for years now. My Dad died on July 13, 1999. I remember that it was about a month after Father’s Day, and as was typical for me, I was late in getting his Father’s Day card to him. I never got to give it to him and instead had to put it in his casket to be buried with him. I’ll always wish I’d given him that last card, and so the holiday has represented sadness and regret ever since.

This year, I felt differently about it. I still miss him, still wonder what he’d think of my life today, and I still regret not giving him his last Father’s Day card in time. But this year, I felt some measure of relief, which was a strange feeling. It gives me comfort to know that my Dad went ahead so that he could greet Vivienne, hold her hand, and tell her about our family. It was this weird feeling of not exactly being happy that he’s gone, but being happy that there was someone with her who I was so close with. When I was pregnant with Vivienne, it made me so sad to think about how my Dad would never get to meet her. Now, it gives me so much comfort to know that she’s with him. It changed my perspective on Father’s Day this year. I miss them both like crazy, but it gives me some peace to know they have each other.

This year was also the first Father’s Day for my husband. I know the world doesn’t see us as parents in the traditional sense, and that comes down harder on the Dads than the Moms. If you only knew how much he does to guard and defend his daughter’s memory, you could see what an amazing Dad he is. But that’s hard for people outside of our little world to see. So he’s left, much like I was, to find ways to celebrate a holiday that doesn’t feel like it’s meant for him.

I know it was a hard day for him. I did what I could, but I also know that I can’t give him the one thing he wants on that day – to hold his baby girl. I think it was just as hard watching him on Sunday and wanting to make it better as it was living through Mother’s Day myself.

It was a complicated day. Comfort in knowing that my Dad is with my daughter. Sadness that this isn’t a happy celebration for my husband. And regret for so much that I wish could be different.