Doesn't feel like Father's Day.
It just doesn't feel like Father's Day.
I know my two boys will celebrate with me but I'm not really sure what to do with myself.
I lost my dad last year.
Since September 23, 2012, everything has been a first. I had my first birthday without a funny card from him. We had the first Thanksgiving dinner without him praying before the meal. We celebrated our first family Christmas with him not in his recliner while everyone opened presents. And we went on our first family vacation without him there with us.
This is my first Fathers Day without my dad. There is no one to take to dinner after church. There is no plan to go in with my siblings on a gift. I have no one to send a funny Father's Day card.
My dad was a quiet man. He didn't tell a lot of jokes, but he loved to laugh and make others laugh. If there was an occasion where sending a card was appropriate, you could be sure that he would find a funny one.
I don't know if it is genetic or if I just learned to love it, but I am the same way. When I send my heartfelt sentiments, those sentiments tend to include some laughter.
I agree with Clarence Budington Kelland – an author who once called himself the best second-rate writer in America, a title I hope to hold one day – who said, "My father didn't tell me how to live; he lived, and let me watch him do it."
Since dad has been gone, I have noticed many times how I do something like he did it. The hours I work, the things I do, and even my expectations of myself and others all bring me pride and happiness when I see a little bit of him coming out of me.
I wish it happened more often.
Father's Day won't be the same this year. But it does make me proud when I see a little bit of my dad passing through me into my sons.
Blake, my 9-year-old, used PowerPoint to make a Father's Day card for me this year. He couldn't wait to show me so he walked me through it.
After a few slides of nice comments and sweet sentiment, suddenly a frame pops up with a huge picture of a tree frog he found online with the words "Zing!!!!! Surprise! Tree Frog!"
Blake and I both laughed out loud. As I told my mom the story, I couldn't help but think of the cards dad always gave and how he loved to make people laugh.
Dad loved nothing more than his family and his grandchildren and great-grandchildren held a special place in his heart.
I think he would be proud of that tree frog slide.
I know I was.