It’s late enough to be Father’s Day. And I’m lucky enough to have my father here. Despite having his gall bladder removed a week ago this past Wednesday, he and my mom kept Abby the past week. They drove back from up North today with our baby.
My dad, at age 71, was exhausted. But we still managed to play a couple of games of Pinochle — the official family game — last night and talk and laugh.
It’s good I can share my dad with Susan. She hasn’t seen her dad in about 10 years, since right around the time she told him we were dating. If you’ve seen us together, you can guess why there’s been a rift.
I don’t have a present for my dad. There isn’t much he needs or wants any more besides spending time at his favorite past-time. He always tells me he doesn’t want anything anyway. When I do try to buy him a present, I usually fail miserably.
He’s been retired for about 15 years, living off a state pension and Social Security. We both agree, if he hadn’t retired when he did, he probably wouldn’t be here now. He’s the youngest of eight (My mom is the fifth of eight. Strange parallel.). Two sisters survive, one lives in North Carolina.
Unlike my mom’s family — who seem to live on in good health into their 80s, 90s and 100s — my dad’s family doesn’t fare as well.
As I said, I didn’t buy him a present. But the fact that he’s here and can spend time with his grandkids is a much better gift. I’m an only child, so the gifts that Susan and I have brought into the world to share are a blessing. He looks at them in a way that I can never remember him looking at me. And it fills me with joy.
There was a time when I thought I would disappoint him. I lived at home until I was in my mid-20s, working a part-time job that I loved but knew would never make me the man he wanted me to be. He pushed me out of the nest. It wasn’t a happy time, but I’m so glad he did, because I was able to stretch my wings. And I found the perfect mate to build a nest with.
When I was about 5, I told everyone who would listen that I was the better, improved Herb. He’s never let me forget that. But I lied.
I could never be the better Herb. I’m different. Very different. I think I’ve got a lot more of my mom in me. But it’s my daddy’s strength and independence that keeps me going. He’s a terrific role model, and I try to live my life by his creed.
Basically, it’s family comes first. Sometimes I don’t practice that when it comes to some of my not-so-on-the-ball relatives. But when it comes to my two daughters … We’ll we’ve tried not to spoil them, but you don’t always do what you say you’re gonna do. That doesn’t mean we haven’t been trying to instill in them the values we were brought up with.
Every day I wake up, either on my own or when they come stomping into our room in the morning, I thank the Lord for them. My great joy is seeing their beautiful faces every day, curling up with them in bed and reading a story every night and every laugh, every tear, every … everything that happens in between.
So, on this Father’s Day, I have two people to honor:
Happy Father’s Day, dad. From the “different, not better” Herb.
Happy Father’s Day, Susan. For being the mother of our children and making me a dad, too.