Juneteenth     Father's Day     Solstice

It's Father's Day. This year the day is bookended by the Solstice and the first national Juneteenth holiday. We have celebrations of every kind.

If you’ve been blessed with the title of father, a hat tip and cheers to you and may your blessings be too abundant to count.

Fathers are so important that even the bad ones are influential.

Fathers get described in all kinds of ways. In the past few days, in anticipation of Father’s Day I guess, I’ve heard people describe their father to be: larger than life, the best man, the gold standard, gorgeous, kind, brilliant, and absolutely the best dad in the world (by what criteria that last claim is made I do not know). Phew. That’s a lot to live up to.

On any day of the year you can hear a father being described as an idol, a businessman, laborer, activist, respected, a good cook, a lot of fun, a drunk, modest, proud, loving, nurturer, protector, and disciplinarian.

My own father died when I was quite young. I have vivid memories of him, but I’ve been able to fill in a lot of father-daughter blanks through other fathers. My friend’s fathers were always kind to me. But I’ve gotten the most by watching my friend’s become fathers. The best fathers, in my observations, are humbled by the experience. They adapt in ways that marriage couldn’t move them. They bend, they grow kind. The best fathers don’t so much as strive to be close with their kids as they strive to know who the heck their kids are. They see their kids as unique people who they brought into this world, yet are separate. Of course they take the responsibility of parenting seriously, and they also take the responsibility for whom they send out into the world seriously. It’s a daunting task with so many variables.

It’s not always the father’s fault how the kids turn out in the end.

We need role models. Fathers are the perfect set-up for role models—as perfect and imperfect they may be. I'm grateful to have had many good examples of fatherhood. It varies in size, shape, and color. One thing that is consistent—there is love.

This weekend it's time to lead by example, by love.

Love and Time are not served in equal measures

 

1971 New Jersey

There was something that I wanted to tell her, but it came out all wrong.

There was something that I needed to say, she couldn’t hear me anyway.

I wanted to tell her to cry more and laugh louder. She should have known to not take herself so damn seriously and, yet, to take life deadly serious. She would’ve benefited if I had been able to tell her:
                debate with tenderness,
                stand with conviction,
                sit with grace,
                and don’t listen to naysayers.

Don’t argue with the dimwitted, the victory is vacuous. Don’t argue with smart people, listen to them. She should not be comfortable in any room where she is the smartest person. Therefore, be prepared to be uncomfortable in a lot of rooms.

I wanted to tell her not to trust everyone who is in charge of protection. She need not be suspicious of the weird, but to suspect the similar. Not every bit of trouble is a problem, some trouble leads to solutions. Get lost and take the wrong road, it too will lead to places.

Some rules are made to be broken and most laws should be respected.

She wouldn't have understood that attention is energy and that she should focus it where she wanted to go.

I'd have told her not to wait for inspiration. Work towards it, not from it.

It’d be great if she knew that pretty wrapped packages sometimes contain noxious surprises.

Know thyself and allow for frequent updates.

Even if it wasn’t me, someone should’ve told her to try every hair color in the chart and then invent some more. The first beauty tip is always the right shoes.

Love and time are not served in equal measures.

Pain is indeed optional unless, of course, it’s physical. Perspective is mutable and constant. Check it regularly.

                                    Choose happiness.
                                    Reach for joy.
                                    Jump for justice.

I want to tell her that she will fearlessly face the hallow caverns of herself. She will laugh alone to a point that borders on lunacy. She will in time conquer her demons, awaken from her nightmares, and she will prevail over the mean and petty.

I wish she had known then that she will be ready exactly when she believes herself to be ready.

Every dark empty night is followed by sun.

She did not know any of this.

And that is why I am here today.