Tomorrow is my first Father’s Day that I’ll celebrate just as a father, and not for my father, and I’m finding it very sad.
It makes me sad to receive thanks for something I asked to do. “Father” is a moniker I asked for. It can be incredibly difficult, but so emotionally rewarding, that getting thanked for doing it seems hypocritical.
It makes me sad, because I can and should be a better father. I make mistakes every day, I can be a terrible role model, I am often a lazy and inattentive dad, yet my son just adores me regardless. It kills me.
A year ago we took my father out to Fish Camp for Father’s Day, it was the last time I went out with him to a restaurant. He was a deeply flawed man, and made mistakes as a father everyday and when I was young, I adored him, and even after I’m old enough know that he should have and could have been a better father, I still adore him…and miss him.
My father loved that Father’s Day dinner, he loved to adored. Although he would never admit it, he loved to be appreciated, to be the center of attention, I think he got something out of Father’s Day.
I don’t.
Not yet, anyway. Maybe, if after years of being under appreciated, I’ll learn to enjoy the attention of Father’s Day, even if I’m still a far from perfect father. Something to look forward to I guess.
Brooklyn Brood 
