I'm not done with my posts about listening, but I'm taking a little break today to ramble about Father's Day.

I have been irritable with a capital "I-RRITABLE" these past few days, and I haven't known why.  Man, I hate that.  I mean, I'm pretty in tune with my feelings.  My affective language use is pretty darn high.  And I'm a jerk and I like to know exactly what's going on.

I think, what it is, now that today has come and I'm seeing everybody's loving and devoted posts on FB, is that it is ... Father's Day.

I don't think Father's Day is supposed to make you irritable.  I mean, I'll be calling my step dad today to wish him a Happy Father's Day.  I even bought Shoes a Happy Father's Day Card "from the dog."  They actually make those.  We're horrifically corny like that.

I don't have a relationship with my real dad.  I did, for many, many years (my parents separated when I was in high school), but it wasn't until the last 12 months that things deteroriated to the point of nothing-ness.  I guess I don't really want to tell every sordid detail, but the highlights include not coming to my wedding (and texting the night of the rehearsal dinner to tell me that) to activity on his part that had Shoes and I considering a civil protection order.  And a bunch of stuff in-between.

Is it jealousy that makes me hate this day?
Oh, yes, indeed.  Looking on FB this morning at friends' pictures of themselves with their fathers on their wedding day brought forth a few sad tears.

Is it grief that makes me hate this day?
Absolutely no doubt.  I fought for YEARS for a relationship with my dad.  Letting that go was so painful.  But no less painful than being on the receiving end of a bunch of poop (clinical term).

I have, over the years, had several well meaning friends who have "lent" me their fathers.  And while this has helped, and was a loving and kind gesture, it just can't make up for that sense of loss.  

Big, deep, fat, dark loss.

What I am grateful for?

1.  This sounds bizarre, but I am grateful for the years I did get to spend with my dad.  The early years. The early kid years of remote controlled airplanes and Muppets and gardening and music and smiles.

2.  The hope of restoration.  Every time these sad feelings pop up, I name them and am mindful of them.  That's a very real part of me that will do no good to pretend doesn't exist.  However, I also know that because I know what's going on with me, I have faith that I'll come to a point where it hurts a little less.

3.  A connection with God and the universe - Faith.  Although my faith looks different than it did in my mid 20s, the feeling that I remain held and regarded lingers, as does the sense that I am deeply connected to love.


To Fathers who are there in those fb photos, I say, "job well done."  And I say "thank you."

And now I am going to go download music and paint my living room.  Get ready for the upcoming week.  Move on.


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