Father’s Day…unedited…

Today is Father’s Day.

I was not going to write anything about it. My father has passed on, but this morning I woke to a voicemail from my brother.

“Hey, brother. I wanted to wish you a Happy Father’s Day.”

He sounded tired, weary is the stronger word here. As a writer, it stirred something in me. So, here I am. Writing about Father’s Day.

Fathers are important.

Yeah, I know. We live in a world where fathers are only donors now, they’re ostracized for being Neanderthals, and seems like everything wrong in the world is a man’s fault.

It’s enough to make a guy weary.

I was blessed to have a good dad. My dad worked hard to provide a roof over our heads, put food in our tummies, and taught us how to be good men. He loved my mother and was faithful to only her.

My father didn’t raise his voice often. He knew who he was and knew what he believed in. I never understood him until I joined the military and walked a mile or two in his shoes. My dad loved people. He helped people even when he had nothing left to give.

He volunteered to serve his country, and he stood for right. If I turn out to be half the man he was, I will turn out okay.

On a final note, he taught me and my brother Mule the value of a hard day’s work, and the joy of a simple life. “It’s the little things that brings the biggest joy, son.”

I got it, dad. I know you think I wasn’t paying attention, but I heard you.

Dad always said I was so poor I couldn’t afford to pay attention.

God, I miss him.

So, Happy Father’s Day to all the dads out there. May your day be blessed.


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