I made and sent 4 father's day cards this year.
None were for my father.
Most days, if you were to ask me, I would not own up to having such a thing. A father.
In fact there was a man who fathered me. He was a bad man and most likely still is, but I pushed him out of my life and haven't looked back.
This post isn't about those kinds of fathers.
I have maybe been a little sensitive to the whole dad thing over the years. I feel melty just seeing a dad turn up for his kid. It gives me pause every single time I see a dad throwing a ball to his son, playing soccer with his daughter. There was a time I thought that was just a thing in movies, but I have since known many men, an inspiring and heartening number of men, who are those kinds of fathers.
It thrills me to see my brother-in-law softly kiss his son on the cheek.
To see my dear friend play princess with his daughter.
To see my father-in-law on the floor, building trains and playing superhero with his grand kids.
To hear my grandfather boasting about his great grandsons, of which he now has three.
And to see my mother's new husband, not trying to be our father, but being a strong, loving figure all the same. Willing to call us his family. Doting on grandkids who aren't his by blood but who couldn't love him more even if he was.
It's a blessing, a blessing a thousand times over, to have such wonderful men in my life.
Happy father's day to them all, to you all, and to my mother, who was all the dad and twice the mom I ever needed.