It’s Husbanks’ first Father’s Day. Husbanks excels at family matters. He changes diapers. He does dishes. He folds laundry. He compliments my cooking. He buys me presents. He runs Hollis. He teaches Riddles about music. He is patient. He takes care of Riddles when I have evening or weekend-long church events. And now he pays all the bills. At this point, I am afraid he is going to wonder what is in it for him.
I know I did
good well (he also corrects my grammar).
I won’t pretend that having a family has replaced Father’s Day for me. I still long for the relationship that I would have with my father today. I think about how much I want him to hold Riddles. Selfishly, I want my dad to see that I have become a compassionate, responsible adult. But my father’s impressions of me stopped at an insecure, irrational young adult. I can’t get mad about it; his death is part of what made me compassionate and responsible. Huh. Sometimes life’s
a bit funny.
While the pain isn’t gone, I am thankful for having a good father in my family:
To make up for this downer post, I give you “Riddles Signs Dad’s Father’s Day Card.”
Happy Father’s Day, Husbanks. I
know I must resign myself to look forward to watching a lot of the US Open this weekend.