It used to mean a lot to have this day with Papa, but now a sort of dread comes up because the day is supposed to be a celebration, yet inside me, yearning for the past overwhelms, the regret of not spending more time with him chokes me up, and I am l left feeling lost. It is also a day to recognize so many of those around me who are great fathers, and I now make more of an effort to honor them because before it was a more personal day for me.
I also cannot help feeling for the people who no longer have children to wish them or vice versa don’t have their fathers any longer. Those scenarios have become far too real of late, and my heart clenches for the father who is going through their first fathers day without their son. Each time the image comes to me unbidden, it takes physical effort to keep the tears down. The unfairness of it, the randomness, the helplessness all coalesce to remind me that so much can change in a moment. Things we take for granted snatched away, leaving us to cope with a lifetime of not having that person around anymore.
As much as I want to celebrate the day, it comes at the expense of the losses in my life and others. It is hard not to feel the pain of others and of my own. There are moments of laughter, smiles, small remembrances of the times, but inside is a deep wound that just will not scab over, ready to be ripped open at a moments notice. This is the new reality, and I fervently wish for the past for once when it was carefree, and we had our loved ones around us, but I also this too is part of life. I just wish it didn’t hurt so damn much.
I wish my heart wasn’t so selfish, drowning out all the good when really it is a time to celebrate. But I also know that with time, the pain may dull, and that’s all I can hope for the father without a son. That in this time of trauma, he gets some, even a little bit, of peace. That’s the best one can hope for. Time,never ending, slow time will make new paths of healing.