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To you with no father on Father’s Day

not being a victim
  I leave for Swaziland, a land with few fathers, two days after Father’s Day. It made me think of what an uncelebrated holiday this is for many people. How do you celebrate a day when the person you’re celebrating is gone or has failed you? This Father’s Day, what do you say to the fathe…
By Seth Barnes

 

I leave for Swaziland, a land with few fathers, two days after Father’s Day. It made me think of what an uncelebrated holiday this is for many people. How do you celebrate a day when the person you’re celebrating is gone or has failed you? This Father’s Day, what do you say to the father who isn’t there? A day like this can stir up a foul-smelling stew of emotions that for many, is better left on the back burner. Fathers are supposed to protect and counsel; they are friends and providers. But what if, when you needed protection most, your father was absent? This weekend my daughter Emily called me and said, “Daddy, I had a blowout on the highway and I steered it to the median – what do I do?” I was there in 15 minutes! That’s what dads do. The world is harsh; something in the DNA of a dad sends us rushing to help our children when they need it. And if you don’t have a father to protect you, it can leave you feeling deeply alone and insecure. Without a dad, you may find yourself putting up high fences of protection everywhere in your life. The world may feel perpetually dangerous.

If you’re fatherless today, my wish for you on this Father’s Day is that you see your father’s humanity. So many fathers not only failed to protect, they may also have been the source of great pain in their children’s lives. They said and did things that cut to the quick. And though they’re gone, their words still ring in your ears. Why did they hurt you so? We fathers who failed you don’t need excuses on this or any other day, but so many of us, if we had the words, would tell our own story of fathers who failed us. And if we could see the pain we caused you and could tap the true response of our heart, we’d weep and ask your forgiveness. Maybe we’d explain our failure in a way that you could see our humanity.

If your Daddy is absent today, if he’s failed you, or by dying, gone so far away that all your conversations are frustrating monologues, let me just imagine what he might say to you if he could put you on his lap and talk to you from his heart. I think he might say something like this: “Honey, I’m so sorry. I never intended life to go this way. I wanted so badly to be there for you. I know I failed you and I’ll never be able to make it right. I had such dreams for you and me. In my minds’ eye, I was doing all the things for you that a father should do. When you were born, I was so proud of you. You were the apple of my eye. Your mom and I loved you so much. It wasn’t supposed to work out this way. I was supposed to be there for all the important things in your life. When your teacher or your boss didn’t see your potential, I was supposed to be there to encourage you and kiss you on the head. That’s was my dream for us. I wanted the world to see you for the rock star that you always were to me. I wanted to love you like you deserved to be loved.

And life just didn’t go according to my plan. It’s a Father’s Day without me, the main attraction. All those oceans of pain that separate us now – if I could, I’d swim through them all again just to wipe the tears from your cheeks. You were so special to me. And if I were there and could say the words, I’d ask you, “Baby, can you ever forgive me for not being there?”

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