Adventures of a College Educated Misfit - Part 24

....On Father's Day

Now that we're in the shadows of holidays devoted to our parents, I'd like to cook a little, if you don't mind. I often wonder why there are special days for our parents, in which we're encouraged to go above and beyond our normal signs of affection / appreciation for the people that brought us into this world? To be honest, I wonder if the idea of having a Children's Day ever crossed the minds of the marketing geniuses that crafted holidays for the Mammy and Pappy? I guess with birthdays, Christmas, and basically every other day of the year, kids really have special holidays year round. Meh, back to the parents...

So, the 3rd Sundays of May and June have been designated to show love to our parental figures. We take them out to dinner, buy them cards and / or gifts, or just do a little something extra to show them that we care. HOWEVER, in this day and age of social media, it has become apparent that these special days designated for parent appreciation are bittersweet for some, and just plain bitter for a majority of us. Yes, we all know someone with a parent that has been less than supportive, or that has had no input to the lives of their child except for the 12min of intercourse that ultimately led to conception. Whatever the case is, it's put on display, and usually done without remorse....*stretches*

Dad. Daddy. Father. Pop. Paw. "That ni**a that nutted in my Mom." There are several titles we tend to give our paternal figures, all of which are evident on and around Father's Day. A variety of colorful tweets, Facebook status updates, Vine videos, and Instagram photos tell [ironic] stories about how awesome our Moms are, how some of our Dads are like God's gift to humanity, and how much of an "ain't sh*t ni**a" most of our Dads turned out to be. I usually find myself in the middle of this Venn diagram, trying to see which way I should lean to. 

Moreover, I usually just sit back and observe all of the positive and negative comments that surface around me. I see heroic tales about how someone's Dad used to scare away monsters from underneath the bed, and how one Dad sacrificed eating dinner 4 nights a week so that his kids would have a decent meal. I've read angry messages about how some Dads don't even acknowledge their kids, and I have even told the story about how my Dad left my Mom on my 4th birthday. BUT, after further review, I have reached this conclusion. I'm a Misfit, and despite the fact that my Dad has been absent / less than favorable in my eyes for the majority of my adult life, I still love my Father.

How? It's quite simple. I have old and new friends that are near and dear to me that have (a) Never had a relationship with their Fathers, (b) Had their Fathers pass away within the past 8 years, and (c) Never actually met their Fathers. I've had the honor...the blessing....the opportunity to know and grow up with my Father in my life. Although the role was limited, he has been no more than an [awkward] phone call or 20min drive from where I am. Who am I to bash or belittle him, when I have friends that would KILL just to have a few moments with their Dads. 

Yes, my anger and frustration is justified, and probably could be even worse, but I refuse to let it deter me from loving my Father. Each and every time we communicate, he pisses me off to the nth degree....but I can still talk to / see him. The guilt trip he leads me on is better than a trip to a grassy grave-site, right? I know he's stubborn, and due to his current medical state, is ready to die, but I can't and won't give up on him. He needs someone to fight for him, and after yesterday's conversation with him, it has to be me.

For the record, this isn't about the broken-relationship between your parents. This is between you and your Father. Leave your Mom out of this one. So, I'm saying this to all of you: While I understand that your Dads may not have been the best, you should attempt to be the bigger person in the "relationship." It won't be easy, and it damn sure won't be fun, but take it upon yourself to try and bridge the gap before it's too late. Tomorrow isn't promised for any of us, and I'd hate for any of us to be the ones that never got a chance to say "I forgive you, Dad." 

You don't have to ride bikes together, or go fishing, but a simple conversation to clear the air, and reach some sort of closure would be beneficial. He's not perfect, and neither are you, so have a heart, and just do the right thing. Good Luck....