Ricochet is the best place on the internet to discuss the issues of the day, either through commenting on posts or writing your own for our active and dynamic community in a fully moderated environment. In addition, the Ricochet Audio Network offers over 50 original podcasts with new episodes released every day.
To Dad on Father’s Day
Every Father’s Day for the last 40-odd years (ever since I moved out of the house) I would call my dad on Father’s Day and wish him a happy Father’s Day; even when we both still lived in Ann Arbor and I was going over later in the day to see him. Over the last few years he would try to call me first to wish me a happy Father’s Day; ater all, I had three sons, and dad thought I had done a great job raising them. We might chat a while about how things were going, especially in the 1980s and early 1990s when I was in Texas and he was in Michigan and long distance charges were a thing.
Since 2002, when I moved back to the Houston area from Palestine, TX and cell phones and national plans made long-distance charges obsolete, I called him every Saturday morning and we reviewed the events of the week. Not the big national events. The small ones in our lives and the lives of our family.
This year I cannot make that call. Dad died June 2, eight days before his 94th birthday.
Nor do I make that Saturday-morning call. I talked to mom on other occasions.
I did not miss making that Saturday-morning call last week, but yesterday it struck me what I had lost. Later that day I had a book signing. Telling my dad about it would have delighted him. Calling up anyone else and telling them about it would have seemed like bragging. I really missed not being able to talk with him.
The signing was a small thing, an event in Costco for a book I wrote two years ago, yet he would have been proud of me about it. Costco picked the book (The Battleship Texas) because it made a good Father’s Day gift, something he would have appreciated. I signed 30 copies. I suspect what I get in royalties will not equal my costs in gasoline and tolls, but I did it anyway, and enjoyed doing it. And I regret not being able to share that with my dad.
It does not matter whether you are six or 60; a child wants a father’s approval. It was true with me; it is true with my sons. They called me today to wish me a happy Father’s Day, and tell me what is happening in their lives. One son will be stopping by. He lives in Houston (the other two are in the Dallas-Fort Worth area) and stopping by that is what you do on Father’s Day.
Dad, I miss you. I wish I could call. Happy Father’s Day.
Published in General
This brought tears to my eyes; I am so sorry.
Happy Father’s Day. Seawriter. Bet he knows and is reading over your shoulder.
‘A child wants a father’s approval’. That is a powerful statement. That you were blessed with having a loving father for 94 years is astounding! He produced a loving son – a loving legacy. You pass that loving legacy on to your children and a positive dynamic continues – your history!
My nephew doesn’t know that on Father’s Day – he has anxiety and anger – a father who was abusive, verbally, at times physically, who was self-absorbed and indulged in too much alcohol and at times, the latest drug. I feel for him today also, and my niece. They always wanted their father’s love and approval. Maybe sometime they will have it.
That is very dear, and I’m so glad that you knew and appreciated your dad while you could. Dads are a powerful influence, for the good or the bad, and it is a serious blessing when one gets the positive version. All that love…
Wonderful memories of your father. I lost my biological father in 2003 and my step dad who was hugely influencial in who I am 4 years ago. My father was only 72, while my stepfather was 91 when they passed.
I miss them both.
Thank you for the well written rememberance, it brought to mind my fathers .
Thank you for this post, and my condolences to you and your family.
I have not lost my father yet, but I lost my grandfather recently. I went to call him before I realized he wouldn’t answer. It’s the first time since just after his death I’ve acutely felt the pangs of loss.
Here’s to your dad, and all the great dads who have been and will be.