Father's Day

The picture is of myself and my two older brothers, Silverbacks all. We were at my nephew's wedding, holding, of course, the appropriate dram of the sainted martyrs who have crossed the bar before us. Ahhhh fatherhood. You get the three brothers together and there is no greater team on planet Earth, nor are any three funnier to be around. We laugh until we cry over stuff that no one sees humor in.

I only heard from two of my three children yesterday, Father's Day. And that was wonderful. More about that later. There is also an old fighter pilot saying when they would cross from water to land. They would report their position by radioing their feet are dry or vise-versa if they were leaving land back to their carriers-their feet are wet. Again, later on this as well.

Unfortunately, this day, for a lot of people, is a reminder of what wasn't. Dads who weren't there, chose not to be there, or who were there and were abusive in ways that would make Saddam blush. For those individuals who suffer from this form of victimization, I can only say, it doesn't ever have to be the same with you. It can change-with you.

How do I know? Because I have seen the other side as well. I have seen men who have come from such upbringings and have become fathers themselves, good fathers; caring, loving, devoted dads. I have seen men who have adopted children and raised them as if they were there own. My own father did such a thing. I have seen men stand in as fathers, with no obligation or requirement to do so, stand in place of the empty role of father.

"Well, that's great, Mark. That's fine for you. What about the rest of us who don't know how, when, what thing this or that we should be doing? What about my anger? Hmm? I have anger issues and, well, I just can't."

Bull.

You know what is right and wrong. You know what is good and evil. You know. The tough part for men is owning their screw ups. But, this could be the greatest thing you ever show or teach your children, daddy's ownership of self. Because if the kid sees you own and confess and ask for forgiveness of them, they are then able to learn how to give forgiveness and eventually-needfully, own and forgive themselves later in life. And we all need to know how to do that.

Being a dad is hard, especially if you do it well. You're tired all the time. You are sore in places that shouldn't be sore. Your focus on seemingly mundane issues rather than those things that give you status and position. And we won't even talk about our bowels-my dad's #1 question whenever any of us were sick-How are your bowels? "Uh, dad, I was hit with a baseball. What does that--"

You get my meaning.

Nope, I only heard from two of my children on Father's Day. My two daughters made me a FATHERS breakfast! All the fatty good foods and sweet waffles a father could want. My son, however, didn't call. That was wonderful too. You see, I know my little boy. I know he would have called if he could. He couldn't call me and that was the best news all day.

There are no phones on the transport plane I was sure he was on, coming home from Iraq. He left Iraq and went to Kuwait and then they pointed their plane west and followed the sun.

At 1:30 in this morning, the day after Father's Day, he called from Maine to wish me a happy-if not belated, Father's Day. I went back to sleep three hours later knowing he could walk home if he had to.

His feet were dry.

Happy Father's Day to those who are standing as fathers. You have a noble, Biblical, Herculean task. Aye, ti's a good day.