Father's Day

Sunday is Father's Day. I plan on visiting with my own Dad this weekend even as my daughter spends time with me. I like the multi-generational aspect of this. Daughter, Dad and Grampa all celebrating Father's Day together.

I can only assume that my own Dad and Mom really wanted to be parents, although Dad has never actually discussed this with me. It is just an assumption on my part but since the adoption process is long, exhausting and expensive there had to be great intent there.

Obviously, as long as I've known him, he's always been a Dad. I don't know how he viewed his life before we kids came along; perhaps I never will. This really isn't the type of thing that Dad likes to discuss. He's not that type of guy. He's just a product of his generation. Case in point: two years ago my brother and I - independent of each other - made the mistake of giving Dad a peck on the cheek for Christmas. After I did so, he got all flustered and commented gruffly, "Mark did that when I saw him this year, too. We don't do that..."

It sounds worse than it was. Dad just appreciates a firm handshake, a clasp on his shoulder, and warm greetings instead. It stands to reason that Dad rarely discusses "feelings", either. He will - if he brings it up. Otherwise, it is a slippery slope of conversation that I usually avoid so as not to make him uncomfortable.

So, while I know that the Old Man likes being "Dad" I often wonder what his life was like before I came along. What was he doing with himself? Who was he?

And then I realize, these questions are pointless.

If anyone asked me the same questions I couldn't answer them, either. Because, for me, anything that I ever did up until August 26th 1992 was kind of an illusion. I was existing without living. The birth of my daughter gave me life. Jenna's life jump-started my own.

I love Father's Day. Not because it is a day for Jenna to remember me. Rather, it is a day for me to reflect upon and remember all that I am because of her place in my life and in my heart.