Father's Day

Oh right. It's Father's Day.

For me it hasn't been Father's Day for 15 years. Fifteen years I have been "fatherless." Funny, because writing it can only sound sad-sackish, woe-is-me--ish. I don't feel that way.

15 ties.

I feel hazy. I feel graspy, but not done wrong.

15 pair of socks.

I don't feel fatherless, as in lacking.

But I don't feel fatherful either. I definitely don't feel fatherful. 

You have faded a bit, Dad. Can you even believe that?  I can't hear you.  Can you speak up?  Maybe we got a bad connection.

I see your seersucker robe, I can feel your beard stubble, but your voice, it is distant Dad.  

15 cards and 15 phone calls.

No disrespect to dear old dad. When I think about him, which is often, I miss him deeply. He was a huge influence in/on my life. Sadly a very untapped resource. I feel I could have learned so much, but I spent a good portion of time away from him trying to "fix myself." Sad because I really think we would have had some great times.

15 Cats. 15 Cradles.

Sure, we had great times, well good times, but how good can they have been when we were both hiding behind the dog or the tease or the Joe's of Westlake steak dinner?

Being back in Ireland at his mum's house and seeing the historic doorway where he told my mum something for the first time in 1970. Wow, I know why my mother said I was just like him.

Happy Father's Day, Dad. I miss you and I thank you. See you around? Come on over, I got nothing to hide and I can make you a sandwich and we can talk about New York back in the Day. I will even go to a Yankees game though I know you supported the Giants when you were here.

But like you, they left town. They went somewhere else.