“What
Do We Seek? What Shall We Ask For? What Can We Hope For? What Will We Live With?”
A
Special Tribute To Father’s Day!
06/17/12
To my always dearest friends, and constant, loyal
readers, remarked upon the calendar—today—is “Father’s Day”; and I can
well-understand that, for too many, today is just another day.
You may have, in your experience, memories of
drugged, or drunken, ‘fathers’, either abusive in the extreme…or absent, it
merely shows that practically any male can father children. And for you—my dear sweet friends—I wish for
you a most quiet day, with all foul horrible thoughts expunged for the day.
For others, having had ‘step-fathers’ was either a
joy or a torment, and for you—too—my heart goes out to you. I most sincerely hope any gap was filled by
some kinder male role model, who tried to provide you with a respectable,
loving influence in your lives: it may have been an uncle, a neighbor, a family
friend, minister, or guidance counselor.
Someone who might ably assist you through childhood, with values learned
to last a lifetime. And for you, on this
day, I sincerely wish you peace, and that any scars remaining were not of your
doing, nor, were they your fault.
Biologically, for any male, the biological act of
making children is easy…sometimes I believe too easy, for it does not mandate
any further involvement, or concern. As
the saying goes, “Any man can be a father.
It takes a special man to be a ‘dad’.
For many—today—whose fathers are still alive, and
who loved you at birth, and love you still, these decent men fully deserve
praise for having nurtured you, been ‘there’ for you, even in difficult times,
and who—in general—delight in you, I would urge you please, do not let the day
go unrecognized, for the very special place they occupy with your heart.
And, although it is ‘Father’s Day’, I most firmly
believe a sincere regard of thanks must be paid to the mother who might have
had to work two jobs, while still taking care of you and loving you. And…for
that bond that should exist for having carried you through nine, long months;
there is that unique bond between mother and child.
My father and mother were older when they married,
and older, still, when they had me. A
boy who did not survive preceded me; and, when I was born, twenty-four weeks
premature, and at slightly over two-and-a-half pounds, and very, gravely ill,
my chances of living were reduced to a mere ‘coin toss’ of the Gods; and after
I was born, my mother could no longer bear children.
So, while I will admit that—in caution, and fear—I was
brought up most carefully, and knew, on some subconscious level that I was
loved, neither did my father spare the discipline whenever I really needed it.
My father, having served his Country in WWII, and
Korea, gave his health, and his all to promote our freedom, and after a
five-year illness, which was terrible to behold, especially as it could not be
undone, my dear father died in 1998 at the age of seventy-nine.
Who knows the chaos that attends fertilization? Or what genes, and chromosomes will be passed
along? But when I was growing up, my
father and I could not have been more different. His hobbies and interests were not my hobbies
or interests.
Yet, I knew who to go to whenever I was in trouble,
lost, or simply needed direction.
Our, little family ‘unit’ consisted of just three
people, and mom and dad were my whole world.
And I loved them completely.
When my mom died in 2008, at age 91, for the very
first time, I felt what it is like to be truly alone. When my Therapist asked me if I felt some
degree of relief, I angrily told him no, but that I DID feel lost, without a
centering, and infinitely empty.
After all, my mother and father had been there for
me all my prior life; and, I must admit, for some time, I felt abandonment
issues. I had taken care of them as they
became elderly and ill, for almost sixteen years. I felt a certain terror, wondering who, now,
would take care of me? The State?
Ho, Ho….I’ve seen the way the State works, with all
of its abusive indifference. And fully
know that, if any time I become a problem, an interruption, or…as I have
already seen, a relegate to some ill-though-out program, which makes no sense,
compromises my wishes and/or my dignity, and has zero funding, besides…just how
few telephone calls would it take to have me yanked from my home, my ‘assets
garnished’, to find myself in some incredible cheap, nasty, hellhole of a
nursing home, and there left to rot?
Dear friends, if you think me over melodramatic, I
can in all truth tell you that such things happen every day. And, things much worse than that, I assure
you.
On yet another personal note, I cannot seem—as yet—to
be rid of this pneumonia, whose infection is now spreading to my sinuses and
left ear. So I would most humbly ask for
your continued kind, thoughtful, healing thoughts and prayers, my dearest,
precious friends.
And so today, Sunday June 17th is, in
effect, my dad’s Day. And on this
hopeful, quiet day, I shall cast my many thoughts back, back over the years,
and decades, to give my thanks, my gratitude, and all my love to my mom, AND to
my dad, who was not just a father, but a friend; one I shall dearly miss as
long as I exist.
And to all my dearest friends, about whom I so often
think, I wish for you a quiet, peaceful day, one remarked by ‘no pain’,
despair, mental, or physical anguish, but surrounded—instead—by those who truly
love you. May today be a true testament
to your fathers, past and present. And I
most sincerely wish for you a day of joyous celebration, love, and healing.
Please
always know that you remain securely in my heart,
‘Zahc’/Charles
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