On Fathers Day
I missed the comfort and joy of having had a loving Father, but I can imagine it from the images of my longing.
He would have loved me with be a rock strong, yet gentle love.
His love would have been powerfully protective, yet empowering and liberating.
His love would have been a constant, present, safe love, that I could have seen and felt recognize as such.
He would have shown me that love by getting down floor with me so you can see the world from my angle. We would have gone for walks together, just him and me, and he would wanted to listen to me tell him about my world, because he really wanted to know. And even if he was very busy, he still would have found time for me.
I would have known he there for me if I didn’t know stuff, and wanted to ask him about it, and he would know how to tell me I was wrong without telling me I am stupid. He would have encouraged me to be all I could be, yet he would have been pleased as punch with just who I am, even if I was a girl.
He would have loved my Mom a lot, and he would have touched her and treated her in loving ways I could see, so that I could know how things were supposed to be between men and women who respect and love each other.
He would have found some way to help me navigate puberty, and take care of myself out there, without scaring me, and he would have taught me to value myself around males.
He wouldn’t have been afraid of showing me that he had feelings too, just like me, and he wouldn’t be afraid to say “I love you.” He would have been my cheerleader, my loving guide, my safe harbor, and my rock.
To all the lovingly present Fathers reading this, I salute you and wish you the Best Father’s Day ever.
