Father’s Day has been over for a few hours. I suppose I could feel relieved but I don’t, not really. Lately, not having a father has weighed on me more heavily than it has in the past. Certainly, as Father’s Day looms in the horizon and the commercials are all about loving fatherly relationships and the gifts that show your thanks, I have time to wonder what it would be like if I had ever had the opportunity to celebrate Father’s Day and if I ever will. Will there be a day when I have children of my own and I craft presents from infants to a man that I love? As they grow will we create home-made gifts together?
I can’t blame the people I love for taking their dads for granted because it should be something that you can take for granted. No one should be missing something so critical to development, to happiness, to life. Yet, here I am, lacking a father and more-or-less okay without one. It perhaps took some extra hard work on my part and I fight my tendencies to be sexist (after all, I could easily say that almost every male I have ever trusted has hurt me somehow) on a daily basis but I make the effort and I come out on top in spite of it.
Perhaps that’s all there is to it. To survive this, I control myself because I certainly can’t tell people to stop having fathers or companies to stop posting Father’s Day commercials. Some things just are what they are and, in the meantime, I’m okay.