Today is Father’s Day. I would not be exaggerating when I say that this is my least favorite day of the year. To understand that more fully, here’s a little more about me….
My parents divorced when I was 1 1/2 years old.
Frankly, I’m glad it happened when I was so young because that meant while I was growing up I didn’t know any different. I had friends who’s parents divorced in high school or college and it was much more traumatic for them (I think). Through my childhood and pre-teen years I was not close with my dad. I saw him a few times each year until I moved from Texas to Missouri (at age 13). After that, I don’t even recall how few of times we saw each other. While I was in college, my mom moved to Colorado and got remarried. My step-dad isn’t really involved in my life too much; he has his two children and their families to spend most of his time.
That being said, every Father’s Day I would feel obligated to show appreciation and make a big deal about a “DAD” whom I don’t feel I had. Granted they have the proper title, but I don’t consider either one to fulfill the “father figure” in my life.
Who did fill that spot? My amazing mom. My mom taught me how to play, she was patient with my
and she stood up for me no matter what.
This Father’s Day, I am trying to no longer feel guilty or force a relationship that is not real; but rather, I cherish knowing just how lucky I am to have such an incredible MOM. I’ll never know how she did it all and I’ll always cultivate the life lessons she taught me.
Happy Father’s Day, Mom.