Happy Father's Day
Well here in Australia, it is now, for almost 40 minutes, Father's Day. I can't sleep because my internal clock is a little messed up from night shift, and I keep thinking about Father's Day. I think Father's Day is not just a day to give our dad's presents. It's a day to honour them, to remember all that they've given to us. So in a round about sort of example, I want to explain the most important thing my dad has done for me.
In the movies, you always see those scenes. Where it's night, and everyone thinks the child has gone to bed. Instead the child is sitting just around the corner, on the stairs, listening to everything that is going on downstairs. The child listens in sadness, in sullen resentment, as the child's dad comes home drunk and argues with the child's mother, maybe hits her around a bit etc. And the child grows up sad, conflicted, hating his father, and loving his father.
We had a staircase like that in one of the houses we lived (Chapel Hill), and I was the only child who had an upstairs bedroom. I used to sit on the staircase, around the corner, hidden from view when I was supposed to be in bed. I used to listen in sadness, in sullen resentment, to all the fun everybody was having without me. I used to cry tears of frustration, write angry poems, about how I was being left out of all their conversations, their secrets, their parties, their fun. And I grew up, happy and well adjusted, loving my father.
This is what my Father has given me. Memories of a happy home. A beautiful legacy where I don't look back and remember a disjointed, unhappy home, but where I look back and remember how I wished I'd been downstairs where all the fun was happening. My dad and I have had our moments. Like any normal family - we have argued, we disagree. He's not perfect, I'm not perfect. But he gave me the kind of home environment, that I can only hope to give my children one day (if I ever decide to have children).
I know that I am extremely blessed to have parents like I do. I know that a lot of people haven't had this same experience, and perhaps for them Father's Day is not a happy day, but a day of sadness for what could have been.... I hope those people are doing okay and that today isn't too hard on them.
In the movies, you always see those scenes. Where it's night, and everyone thinks the child has gone to bed. Instead the child is sitting just around the corner, on the stairs, listening to everything that is going on downstairs. The child listens in sadness, in sullen resentment, as the child's dad comes home drunk and argues with the child's mother, maybe hits her around a bit etc. And the child grows up sad, conflicted, hating his father, and loving his father.
We had a staircase like that in one of the houses we lived (Chapel Hill), and I was the only child who had an upstairs bedroom. I used to sit on the staircase, around the corner, hidden from view when I was supposed to be in bed. I used to listen in sadness, in sullen resentment, to all the fun everybody was having without me. I used to cry tears of frustration, write angry poems, about how I was being left out of all their conversations, their secrets, their parties, their fun. And I grew up, happy and well adjusted, loving my father.
This is what my Father has given me. Memories of a happy home. A beautiful legacy where I don't look back and remember a disjointed, unhappy home, but where I look back and remember how I wished I'd been downstairs where all the fun was happening. My dad and I have had our moments. Like any normal family - we have argued, we disagree. He's not perfect, I'm not perfect. But he gave me the kind of home environment, that I can only hope to give my children one day (if I ever decide to have children).
I know that I am extremely blessed to have parents like I do. I know that a lot of people haven't had this same experience, and perhaps for them Father's Day is not a happy day, but a day of sadness for what could have been.... I hope those people are doing okay and that today isn't too hard on them.
posted by earthkissed | 12:44 am
2 Comments:
I've posted a few pictures (badlands, rainbow, lake) that my dad took many years ago.
He died a few years back and I think I was the only one who wasn't teary and depressed. (He wouldn't have wanted that.) He had always said that people shouldn't mourn his passing, but rather delebrate his life. (They didn't throw a party like he wanted.)
He may not have lived as long as some, but he lived well and by that time he'd already given me everything that really mattered.
So now it's my job to carry those things around and share them with as many people as I can.
Here's to making the world a better place.
But the point is that I was listening to everyone having fun, that the house was a happy wonderful place to live, and when I was upset, it was because I was missing out on fun, not because something bad was happening
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