Fathers Day. A day to forget.

I hate Fathers Day.

Every day for over twenty years,
I have missed my dad.
Once a year I am supposed to forget.

Forget that he missed my wedding.
Forget that he never saw my children,
or held them in his arms.
Forget that I never got to see,
his face light up with pride,
as mine would have,
seeing him hold his grandchildren for the first time.
I am supposed to forget that he died too young,
leaving us all behind.

On Fathers day I hurt.small__2046135197
I hurt so much even after all these years.
How could he be gone?
I have lived half my life with no Dad.
I read heartwarming posts to fathers the world over,
and I hurt,
a deep, painful,burning physical pain.
I want my Dad back.

Even though he would be almost eighty now,
I remember him where we left off.
I was twenty one and he in his early fifties.
I want to go back there,
and have him hold me in his arms,
and reassure me I would pass my nursing exams.
I want to see him dressed up,
to walk me down the aisle.
I want to introduce him to my four children,
and listen to him sing to them.
I would like to have him come to my house,
and fix all the DIY jobs my husband thinks are done well.
I would above all else love to see him,
hold my mum once more and take away her loneliness.

However whilst I battle on Fathers Day to forget,
on other days I remember.
The loving father I have posted about so often.
The quiet, funny, charming man,
who cared so much for his children.
The one who gave me a love of writing,
and taught me,
that it is not always the loudest who speaks the most sense.
The brave man, who faced his illness with great humor.
A wonderful father who has left a hole in our family,
we can never fill in.

On Fathers Day,
I will wish my husband,
the father of my children,
a very Happy Fathers Day.
But personally I will be saying.

Happy Fathers Day Not

For anyone who has lost their Dad,
take a moment to listen to this wonderful song.
I guarantee you will shed a tear,
but it is a fantastic tribute to any Dad.


Posts I have written on my Dad

What it takes to be a real Dad?
More than words can say.
Miracle or coincidence

photo credit: Peter Werkman (www.peterwerkman.nl) via photopin cc

34 thoughts on “Fathers Day. A day to forget.

  1. My Mom lost her Dad at the age of 3… my Nana hardly spoke of him… I think that might have been one of the hardest things for my Mom because she wanted to know everything about him. I can’t imagine being in either of your shoes, but know that you are not alone (if that makes you feel any better). I am sure that somewhere your Dad has seen all you have done with a smile (and sometimes that look… you know the look that parents give as if to say I can’t believe you did that! But knowing you totally had to do it 🙂

    1. Thank you for such a lovely comment. I would love to think my Dad has continued to share all our lives. And if he has I am sure it is not just a smile or look he gave us but a roar and even a few tears sometimes. Thank you again. I at least have a lot of wonderful memories of my Dad, unlike your mum.

      1. Neither of you should have to have lost your Dad’s so young… (if I had it my way no one would die ever, but I am sure that is never going to happen). I lost my Grandpa when I was 8 and ever since then I have imagined every person that ever died (that I was related to) watching over me… but that became really stressful. Oh man I hope the 90 of you didn’t see me do that. :p

        1. Ha ha. I used to do that too. Especially when my mum used to say “Your grandmother will turn in her grave if she sees you doing that”.

  2. Ahh, so lovely, and moving. I lost my father when I was three, so in some ways I relate, but it’s different and maybe easier because I don’t know what I might have missed, and you do. Your father sounds just wonderful, and it’s clear there was great love between you, that is still there, in both directions I’m sure!

    1. Thank you. It is hard not having a dad here. I am glad though I had him for even a short time. Fathers day is just one of those days where you are forced to remember and watch others enjoy and celebrate their Dad. Who am I though to speak to you about loss!

    1. Thank you. It is a day I will enjoy with my own husband, but i will listen to the song I posted at some stage when I am alone, and will shed a tear just especially for my dad.

    1. Yes indeed I do. Stay away from this post! Just believe you can change your future not your past. Some day you too might have a son or daughter who adores you. Then my friend you will see a lot of rainbows.

  3. beautiful and sad both. even if not alive, he created you and made you who you are, you are his legacy and can honor him by living your own life fully.

  4. Awww Tric, I’m sorry… I’ll bet he’s looking down and smiling right now, maybe even laughing at all of the attention we are giving him here. Hugs on this difficult day, friend.

    1. Thanks million. Hugs are appreciated. I listened to my song about him and had my little weep! My husband is milking the day nicely though.

  5. There can be something very special about a father and daughter relationship. My father was – and still is – a great inspiration to me and I treasure the memories of every day I spent with him. I once read that a person never really dies when you carry them around with you in your heart. I hope you find some comfort in your memories today.

    1. Thank you. I will of course miss him but yes I will also think back to the good times. He is always as you say very much in my heart.

  6. “Holidays” can be especially painful to people for different reasons. I remember when I was a younger police officer and I’d gripe about having to work on Thanksgiving and Christmas Eve and then Christmas Day. Then one Thanksgiving I stopped into a shelter to talk to some of the folks about safety and what not. There were a whole gym filled with people who have nobody else in their lives and no place to call home, but were all laughing and smiling and feeling blessed to be having such a nice meal in a gymnasium with people in the same boat. I felt like an asshole and learned to appreciate what I have better and worry less about what I don’t have. This isn’t related to your lovely post, so sorry about the tangent I went on…lol.

    1. In a way it is related. My Dads death changed me forever. Every night when I go to bed, without fail, I look at my sleeping children ( those who are asleep) and breathe a sigh of relief that we got through another day. My husband thinks this is so negative, I on the other hand think that it shows how much I appreciate the little things and take nothing for granted. Just like your comment, it gives me a different perspective.

  7. This is so touching, Tric, and I’m very sorry for your Dad’s passing at such an early age. My Mom has been gone over a year now, but Dad is still going at 93. Although walking in my shoes wasn’t the same as your path, I send you hugs. Take care and this was a very lovely tribute to your Dad and to all Fathers. xx Lauren

    1. Thank you for your hugs. It is fantastic you still have yours and thankfully I still have a larger than life healthy mum who I am so grateful for.

  8. I lost my dad this past May. he was in his 80s and had health issues. I moved away from my family in 1988 and never had what you’d call a normal relationship with my father. He was a heavy drinker up until the time I left.

    Sometimes I think my leaving played a strange role in my father’s decision to stop drinking the year I left. Stranger things have happened I suppose. Like fathers taken from their daughters too soon.

    1. Sorry to hear about your Dad. It sounds as if your leaving did indeed effect your father. I think when we lose someone whom we have issues with it is difficult. The mourning is real but there are unresolved issues.
      In a way I still have a relationship with my Dad that leaves me warm inside. Even though he died young we had so much time to say goodbye and to enjoy his time with us as he was at home sick for so long.

      1. Before my father died I told him that I loved him and that we all do things we regret. He seemed sincere when he told me that all of his children (7 of them) meant the world to him. But I can’t help but wonder why he didn’t see what alcoholism did to our family until it was too late.

        1. It is a really cruel addiction alcohol. It is a pity he didn’t deal with it earlier, but I am glad he had time to tell you he loved you and vice verse. That is pretty huge I expect after all that you experienced.

  9. Hi Tric,

    I can imagine how hard Father’s Day must be for you every year. The song says it all really. (Incidentally, the link on this page seems to be down, but I watched the song by following a link on another of your pages about Father’s Day.)

    I’m not sure whether you know the writer Dave Barry. He’s an American humorist who used to write a syndicated column that appeared in many newspapers. His sense of humor really appeals to me and I’ve liked almost everything I’ve read by him over the years.

    Strangely, though, the only piece of writing that ever made a lasting impact on me, and that I can clearly remember even to this day, wasn’t funny at all. It was a short essay called “A million Words” about the passing of his father.

    At the end of the essay, he describes driving home and thinking about the last words they’d shared together. The last sentence is, “I can hardly see the road.” In the context, it’s such a simple yet powerful statement.

    This is long-winded way of saying I was touched by your post, which had the same kind of honest, heartfelt emotion. About some things, the feelings can still be raw and powerful, the sense of loss palpable, even many years later.

Comments are always welcome.

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