It's Father's Day. Happy Father's Day, Daddy, wherever you may be.
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No one wants to belong to the Dead Dads Club on a day dedicated to celebrating fatherhood. The difficulty of the day snuck up on me: I did not contemplate in advance, the multitude of extra factors that would add to the complexity of Feelings of today.
Perhaps I had subconsciously/purposefully not thought about them. Or perhaps I had simply overestimated my ability to march through the day unscathed.
I did manage to get a few useful tasks done around the house, but there was no accomplishing anything truly substantive. I feel Bad about that. I will try again tomorrow.
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There is a kernel of childlike desire that still dwells deep within my heart, and it is never more apparent than it is on Father's Day. It is a primordial longing: take my hand, tell me that you are happy to be here with me, that I am doing a good job, and that it will all be OK. Ask nothing of me, but love me as I am, without condition.
And I would be healed.
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