Happy Father’s Day

After a week off, I’m back just in time to wish a belated Happy Father’s Day to all of the dad’s out there and everyone celebrating.

A number of weeks ago, as many of you will remember, I wrote a column titled “My Mr. Feeny,” about my mentor of sorts, Roger Humes, and my relationship with him. As I discussed at that time, one reason that relationship is so special to me is that, in realistic terms, I don’t have a father.

I mean, obviously I have a “father.” I know how the birds and the bees work…

Somehow, my “father” read that column and, apparently, all of my columns. I’ve not spoken to him in quite a number of years now, so, I’m not quite sure how he found out that I have a column or where to find it. My best guess is that he just Googled my name in general and my column popped up as one of the search results.

My birthday rolled around not too long after that column ran, and I actually received a birthday card in the mail from my “father.” I’ve received a card from him for my birthday each of the last several years, with a simple, short note that he wrote in it.

This time, however, was different…

It was in that card from him that I learned that he’d read that column. He evidently reads my column regularly, from what I could gather. He inserted a piece of paper into the card on which he typed a longer note. And on this note he wrote that he was upset to learn that I feel I don’t really have a father, and confused about why I feel that way.

Seriously? Are you freakin’ kidding me?

It takes more than that previously mentioned birds and bees “donation” to be a father. I’ve learned that, unfortunately, that concept is lost on many people… and my “father” is one of those people.

Even after everything that happened and was done by my “father” when I was a kid… when he still was living at home and after he moved out when the divorce was in process… he still doesn’t get it .

Without getting into too much detail, let’s just say there were instances of my childhood that weren’t exceptionally pleasant, thanks to him and his actions — so, for him to be confused and perplexed about my feelings about him is totally and completely mind boggling and perplexing to me. Why would a child, now grown to adulthood, want anything to do with someone who caused him so much angst and sadness? It doesn’t make sense. And yet, that concept doesn’t seem to process for my “father”, as that note proved.

I’ve not spoken to him for quite a while, and haven’t seen him in even longer. And that’s just fine with me. In fact, that’s the way I want it. That’s the way I’ve made sure things are. My “father” wasn’t a father. He was at best a donor who lived with us for a while, and at worst someone who I did, in fact, learn how NOT to behave — how NOT to be a husband, how NOT to be a father, and how NOT to be a good man.

There may come a day where I choose to speak to, or even see my “father” again. In fact, there’s a pretty good chance that day will come. Not to re-establish a relationship though. Rather, for finality and to reconcile everything that’s transpired in relation to him, for myself.

So, on this Father’s Day, as most Father’s Days of my life really, I don’t really have much at all to acknowledge. But, Happy Father’s Day to all of the real fathers out there. For providing a real example to your children. For showing them the way. And for being a real father.

“Any man can be a father, but it takes someone special to be a dad.” – Author Unknown

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