Fathers Day Memories

     Hey there folks! Here I am again making another effort at getting into the habit of writing. I do not know what is going to come it all but if I have learned anything when trying to take a journey the first step is always the most important.

     I have to be honest I have been trying to think about what I am going to write today. I do not have any anecdotal stories currently on my mind, but then I remembered today is Father’s Day. Days of remembrance like this I usually try to keep to myself and ignore the outside world. As I have mentioned before I lost both of my parents. Not a day passes by that I do not think of them and honestly I find it difficult to be see all of the communications and such that go along with a day like today. Yet, maybe there is some value in sitting down and reflecting. Maybe showing my wounds to the world will help me heal.

     I was criticized not too long ago about how I speak of my parents in conversation. The person I was speaking with said it sounded as if I did not remember them very fondly. Honestly, that idea struck me as rather absurd. However, the more I though about this the more it made sense to me and I started wondering if this wasn’t a defense mechanism. It is easier to sit back and share my critical thoughts of my parents because those ones bring back the least amount of pain. At the same time though I do not like that thought because it seems like an easy cop out to draw sympathy.

     The truth is a convoluted thing. I could share with you a string a cliché feelings and experiences about my father that are all true and sharing all of those things would turn me into a sobbing puddle of emotion. So, yes it is easier to share the less sentimental things because the tears do not flow so freely when I do. However, what I love and what I miss are not just the best parts of him but all of him.

     My father was not a paragon of anything, he was just a regular man trying to figure life out just like the rest of us. What I remember most is all the day to day stuff that at the time would just piss me off. The truth of the matter is though that I would rather be aggravated with him here next to me than have to deal with the void of his absence. I learned how to be a man not just from the things he did right but also from the mistakes he made. I learned to define myself within my opinions of dissent and the shared traits we possessed.

     This is why it is not fair to say my critical memories of him are just a defensive mechanism. Hell, one of the lessons he taught me is that there are two sides to every story and at the end of it all what is a life if not a story to be told. Paying homage to just one side of the man would be doing him a disservice because what makes my father exceptional is not any one great achievement or accomplishment, but rather the whole of who he was both the bad and good.

     So, here is to the fathers out there. Not because your are heroes but because you are real men, with real flaws doing the best you can and we love you for that.


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