I wasn’t quite sure what to expect out of Father’s Day this year. I mean, Mother’s Day was… The writer in me wants to say “quite traumatic” but that’s a bit misleading. It was more revelatory, I guess. I’m still working through what some of it means. So, like I said, not really sure what to expect out of this day.
Surprisingly, it doesn’t bother me near as much. Seriously. Mother’s Day, especially this year, really rubbed something the wrong way. It’s been a weird holiday for me for most of what I can remember, what with my mom passing when I was 8. Teachers would have little projects for us to do for various holidays, so I learned to substitute people in for “mother”. Like, my father, my aunt, or my grandma. Best intentions and all, I’m sure, but a bit weird for me. A few years ago, I remember really starting to see people talking about others who may have a hard time on Mother’s Day. People without mothers, with absent mothers, who wish they could be mothers, etc. And I thought that was pretty nice. But I dunno, this year I was just overcome with all this frustration at basically anybody who dared mention the holiday.
My mom died. That was something completely out of my control. My father, on the other hand, I willingly don’t talk to him. I haven’t spoken to him in almost 6 years.
So this year, what with the insanity that this past year has been, I figured I might have some different emotions this year. Guilt, regret, longing. Heck, maybe even frustration and jealousy of other people’s happiness.
What do I have?
Desire to tell the people that were more father-figures to me than mine ever was just how important they were to me.
Enjoyment at other people’s cute pictures on phaseborg.
Exactly zero feelings one way or the other about my own father.
“The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb.”
The bonds we make by choice are stronger than that which we are born with.
Free will at it’s best.