I have written so many posts about Father’s Day I was not sure what I would write today. Then I ran across this quote and found it inspiring.
“My father didn’t tell me how to live. He lived and let me watch him do it.”
Clarence Budington Kelland
When I think about my dad, I realize this is exactly what he did, as did my two grandfathers.
Fathers are not gods. As children, we witness their successes and their failures, their strengths and their weaknesses, as well as their kindness and their anger.
As children, those observations help form us in one way or another. We may see someone we want to model ourselves after, or we may see someone we want to escape from.
I was fortunate to have a father I loved with all my being. I think I was also fortunate to be the fourth and youngest child (I had three siblings). I realized through my adult years, each one of us had a different father – slightly changed and refined as he learned how to navigate fatherhood.
My father was not a perfect man, nor a perfect father. As I navigated my own life, I knew my children would someday make a similar observation of me as a mother. I, too, had to find my footing, often in difficult times.
On this Father’s Day, I remember my father with great love and respect. I think he may have been his best version of a father when I was an adult. After my mom died, he worked even harder to be the best father he could be. We had long and meaningful talks with no subjects too personal or delicate to discuss.
I was lucky to watch my father live his life. He taught me a lot about love, respect, honesty, forgiveness, and being an imperfect human being.
When he passed away, it was a week before Father’s Day. I never got that last holiday with him, or that last hug I wanted so badly.
Today I remember him with love – a little girl missing her Dad.
Happy Father’s Day.