Happy Father’s Day. Well, Happy Father’s Day to all the decent, loving, caring, safe fathers. I know the majority of dads are this way. It’s just… mine wasn’t. That’s hard. I don’t want to talk about him. Really, I have very little to say about the man that is my father.
I do, however, want to celebrate the wonderful, caring, loving dads out there. I know they exist and I’m so in awe of the way they care for their children. One of my brothers has a little boy who will be approaching two years in several months. The love, the laughter, the delight shared between these two is amazing. My nephew adores his father – you can see the joy in his eyes when he catches sight of his dad and hear it in his excited babbling.
My sister’s children also adore their father. They know their daddy loves them, cares about them and will protect them. They’re growing up to be secure, well adjusted kids (from what I can see) and that is heart warming to see.
My siblings are not continuing the abuse. I know some suffered at the hands of my parents and/or my uncle, and some may not have. I don’t know. Any trauma suffered within the family is generally not spoken about within the family. However, I do know that all of my siblings are determined to raise their children in loving, caring homes. They do not want to repeat the heartache they endured growing up.
So Father’s Day is a sad, overwhelming, and sometimes chaotic time for me. The lead up is often more painful than the actual day with flashbacks and body memories haunting me in the weeks before. The actual day tends to go smoothly, I think. In saying that… I have absolutely no memory of what’s happened in previous years. I have to rely on what my psychologist says – that this is a rough time of year for me. Without fail, every single year.
Despite all the negativity I have for the day and my own associated memories – Happy Father’s Day to the amazing fathers that are out there. Being a parent is a gift and a blessing and should be treated as such.