Father. Dad. Dada. Pops. Daddy. Pa. Baba. Daddio. Superman. So many more endearing terms have been used to label our dads, but some of you may be more familiar with these terms of your XY Parent: Sperm Donor, Absent, Cheater, Addict or Low Life. We all have a father whether we like him enough to send him a father’s day card, acknowledge his existence, or respect him. I understand that many fathers do not deserve the respect of their children. Fathers who walk out leaving a single mother alone because they are too afraid or “not ready” to be a parent anger me. Fathers who find comfort in the bottom of a bottle, the end of a needle, with the power of his fists should be naturally selected. Harsh, perhaps, but I find abuse disgusting. Fathers who forget the shadow of their child in the corner because they are too busy looking in the mirror at themselves are dead beats. Fathers who require the law to remind them to take care of their children should be jailed. For those of you who have survived and succeeded with fathers like these have my deepest admiration.
I am lucky. I have two fathers. The one who raised me and supported me through childhood into adulthood and the one I found when I married. Both of these men are extraordinary. They work to provide for their families. They offer stubborn advice and knowledge when needed, or not. They both love and care for their kids, grand kids, and friends. I have witnessed them going out of their way to help others. I have seen them both struggle, but rarely I have ever seen them shed a tear in my presence. They are rocks. Neither of them are perfect, but they are the best to me.
My dad is funny. Funny in the not really that humorous kind of way but tries really hard to tell a joke and you laugh because you know he thinks he just nailed a spot on the stage at comedy club funny. He likes his Red Sox and Seahawks, spending hours in the yard grilling, mowing, tending to his garden or enjoying an Arnold Palmer on the deck with his wife and dog. He was never a huge drinker, enjoying a delicious craft beer from a quaint, homey pub from time to time. He is quiet. I do not mean that he was shy, but anger never released in a yelling form and on the one or two occasions that it did you doubted his voice was his own. Stubborn. That’s dad alright but we love him despite his little quirks, flaws and oddities. He’s daddio or grampy now!
My father in law is serious. Not in that stuck up, pretentious, pain in the ass kind of way, but a more reserved, confident way. He is brilliant in his job, beaming the happiness he finds at work. If only I could find a job to feel that kind of passion towards. He likes his football (soccer), playing board games while tossing back a beer and sitting on his deck with his family as the sun sets smoking a cigar with a nice clean scotch. He has a large, giving heart. He would bend over backwards for anyone in his family if he knew that it provided them just an ounce of happiness. He helped raise my husband, biologically not his own, but blind to the fact that DNA makes you a parent. He is a great dad or granddad!
I could go on and tell you how fantastic my own husband is as a father to my kids, but we hear about him more often then those other two great dads through this narrative! Just know he is awesome too! For all those other amazing fathers out there I hope you have a great weekend and are able to spend it with the love of your family!