Solidarity Sunday: A Father's Day To Remember
This is the first Father's Day without my pop to call and tell him how much I appreciate him and how thankful I am for everything he did for me. As he lay dying on the day before he passed, I held his hand and we shared stories of being fathers, of forgiving one another, (even as we had long since forgiven one another for any transgressions that occurred). It was difficult to make out, but I knew what he was saying.
And then with fiber optic clarity, he gripped my hand, looked me in the eyes and said, "Thank you for the experience".
I hit me like chest punch. His last words to me. What a beautifully succinct way to say goodbye. Only a father can know what a father experiences.
At this stage in life, many if not most of my friends have lost their dads and so I feel blessed to have this experience of losing him so late in my 50's. I was his last child and his only son.
I wrote a song some years ago called "Place that I Called Home", and we performed it in his honor last Saturday night. It's not necessarily about him, but about the feeling of emptiness when a part of your life is 'closing down' even as we pass our lessons on to the next generation. We go through many chapters, and this is the part of the story where I lost my dad.
God bless all you dads, living or deceased on this Father's Day. To those of you who still have your dad, call him, talk to him, forgive him, no matter what. For you as much as for him. And know that in your role as a father, you are needed, loved, and appreciated more than you'll know. I sure know I miss mine.