Now that Father’s Day 2006 is officially over, passed on, moved beyond and successfully relegated to the annals of history, I want to give all the ladies (and their children) out there something to think about.
I’m telling you this now, so you can mull it over (and over and over into ad nauseam) for the entire year — by Pere’s Day 2007 you’ll know and have what the old man wants.
Dads are pretty simple, and not just minded. Unlike our dirty underwear and socks, we have a tendency to put mental things into neat little boxes — it helps us navigate through life. We have boxes full of ‘Good Stuff? (which we visit frequently); ‘Bad Stuff? (which we only visit when we have no other choices); and a box called, ‘Working On.? We open up the ‘Working On? box to place stuff/questions we can’t solve or when we’ve had an epiphany and have come up with a brilliant answer to another issue that needed fixin? and was placed into the box.
In the ‘Good Stuff? box, we dads mostly store pictures — little movies — of the moments important to us. These include marrying our children’s mothers, the birth of our children and all the great little moments that make life wonderful. I have pictures in my head of Jennie smiling; of Jennie lifting Shamus over her head and twirling him around when he was yet a year old. I have a picture of Shamus pointing at a ceiling light and saying, ‘Yite,? his first word. I have moving pictures of Sean eating dirt, of his first steps and images of his eyes twinkling when he’s about to do something he shouldn’t.
In my ‘Bad Stuff? box, there are those personal errors of life, mistakes too hard to revisit. I only go there to look at these files when I have to sort things out here in the present. Also in this box are the moments of sadness, real or perceived betrayals, abandonments, letdowns and death.
There are actually good things that come out of the ‘Bad Stuff? box. I believe as a parent, a dad, I need to look to my parents, my dad, for guidance. I keep and build on the good things they did when I was a child (those are in the ‘Good Stuff? box). But I have to force myself to remember the less- than-good things. These are the images I have to revisit, and so are kept in the ‘Bad Stuff? box. I feel a responsibility to not repeat those mistakes with my family. So, I reckon good things can come from a ‘bad? box.
I think most dads are like me in that our file folders marked ‘responsibilities? are filed in both the ‘Good Stuff? and ‘Working On? boxes.
Since the times when we were young and impressionable twirps, guys have tried to get responsibilities. One, because it shows we are independent; two, because it shows our dads we are not irresponsible. So ‘responsibilities? are ‘Good Stuff.?
But, at the same time, ‘responsibilities? always grow and need to be worked on. You get a job (and therefore must be responsible to show up and perform it), a wife (to love, honor and protect), a family (to provide for). Your job gives your family security, food, shelter.
So, what do dads really want for Father’s Day?
A super cool watch that can withstand depths up to 22 leagues under the sea?
New computer gadgetry?
Tickets to the new adventure/shoot-em-up/buddy movie?
Time alone?
Nope, nope, nope and nope.
I think dads want to see their families grow. I think dads want to spend time with the family on Father’s Day. Because we are gone much of the time, I think dads want to hold their kids, kiss their wives, feel their warmth and experience their joy.
I had the best Father’s Day ever this past weekend (yep, it was so good, it didn’t fit into one day). We went on our first camping expedition. From this time, I have many images to store in my ‘Good Stuff? box; nothing for the ‘Bad Stuff? box and a couple of items for the ‘Working On? box (like, ‘Remember to bring matches when you go camping?).
I think the best gift a dad can get is his wife and kids. The rest is pure gravy, or, as they say, icing on the proverbial cake. I am — like most dads — blessed by my family. So, if you must, ladies and children, give us something tangible, give us pictures of you for our wallets, lockers and offices. (Or maybe a cool jackknife inscribed with: To Dad, with Love.)