Father’s Day has become a weird thing for me since Dad died. I remember the first Father’s Day after he died (2012) being really hard. I walked into Target to buy something, and I got smacked in the face with all of the advertising reminding people to buy that special gift for that special guy.
Except I didn’t have anyone to buy a special gift for anymore. Even if I just bought a card, I had no one to send it to.
It hasn’t felt as dire since then. I sort of forgot about it at all until I saw a bunch of Facebook posts about it yesterday. Of course I’m sitting here reflecting while I write this, but I don’t really feel sad. Some people who have lost parents say that they think of them every day. I don’t, but I also don’t really think of him as being gone anymore. He pops into my dreams from time-to-time: “Hey, kiddo. It’s going to be alright.” I see things that remind me of him, and then one of his daddisms will chime in my ear and make me chuckle.
Ok, I lied. I’m feeling sad now… I miss him, and I do wish that he was still physically in my life. Since he’s not, at least I have a place I can remember and honor him.
I’m realizing, too, that I don’t mention my mom in my blog posts. She’s alive and raising hell in South Florida, in that good way. 
I try to respect the privacy of those I write about, so I don’t really include her in my posts for that reason. She and I don’t talk often, but I love her dearly. She is just as important to me both in past and present as my dad was/is.
I made her one of my living daringly compact mirrors for Mother’s Day to remind her how much she means to me and so many others. She’s a Minnesota Vikings fan…
So on this Father’s Day, I’m glad to be able to honor both of my parents. They’ve both been integral in shaping who I am today.