Ever since my dad died six years ago, Father’s Day has been pretty bittersweet. I never really liked Father’s Day when my dad was still alive. Nor did I like Mother’s Day or Valentine’s Day. I’m not a big fan of the Greeting Card Company made up holidays. This is due mostly because I have healthy relationships with my family. But, you’re still supposed to show your appreciation for this special person on their special day in some way special.
I would usually get my dad a card, and then I would struggle to figure out some kind of present to get for him. My dad was such a practical man that frivolous gifts were just that, and I never wanted to clutter my dad’s life. So, that usually left me to buy him a bottle of scotch. I’d buy him a bottle of Dewars and a funny card that would cut the awkwardness that was me giving my dad a token of my love and appreciation.
I decided that this year I would’ve purchase a nice knife sharpening gadget for my dad. I don’t think I’ve ever considered a gift for my dad since he died. This year I thought it’d be nice if I provided him with a practical gift — something that I knew he’d use. I’d see a table-mounted, motor-powered, belt-sanding knife sharpener at the local world’s most foremost outfitter a few months ago and thought to myself, “man, dad would probably get a kick (and a lot of use) out of that thing.”
I probably would’ve bought that gadget for my dad. And he probably would’ve been sincerely appreciative of the thought. Hell, the thing might’ve actually worked alright in helping my dad to sharpen his knives. But it’d probably never sharpen a knife to a razor’s edge like my dad could do with an old wet stone and some elbow grease.
I don’t know why I’ve been thinking of all this, or why I’m compelled to write it here. I guess I’m just reminding myself of something that my dad might’ve told me. Something like, “If it’s worth doing, it’s worth doing the right way.”
Happy Father’s Day, Dad. I love you, and sure do miss you.
I just found this today. The photo was of Dad getting Punkin out of a tree that didn’t think he could get down by himself so he would cry and cry until Dad would get him down. Such a baby and Dad felt for him. You knew your dad well even though he was a man of few words when you often wanted him to do small talk so you could figure your worth in this life. So words sometimes don’t count when you already know your own worth. Just be glad he was with you for the time that he was here. He meant the best for you and you knew it. You are and have always been special in our lives and I wish he was still here too. Love you, Josh
I always struggled to find the right gift for my dad on Father’s Day, his birthday, and Christmas. I resented having to spend money and time on getting something he probably wouldn’t like or need. He always went out and bought the things for himself that he wanted or needed, so our gifts to him were tokens for the appropriate occasion. I was actually relieved at the thought that I wouldn’t have to do that anymore after he died. Funny thing is, almost every year now I find something that I know he would really like. It makes me incredibly sad that he’s not here to be the recipient of those gifts–and he’s been gone 23 years.