Fathers Day, Every Day

 by Jesse Wolf Hardin

www.animacenter.org

Happy Fathers Day, we wish to every man who has helped create a life and then done what he could do tend and bless their precious children.  And to those of us who have both seeded the field, and gathered close to our hearts the wild sprouts.  “I love you, Papa!,” our soon to be 9 year old Rhiannon tells me, with enthusiasm, several times a day… making every date this father’s happy day.

I know it is not the same for everyone.  There is terrible number of dads who mentally or sexually abuse their kids, or who simply take away their choices and try to control their very lives.  While that needs to be addressed and dealt with in order to move on, the fact of such unfatherly behavior also makes it more incumbent on us to acknowledge those fathers – ours or those that we know – who instead protect and tend nurture and empower their onetime charges.  I know it makes me all the more grateful to have had a dad who, while he didn’t have much of a clue as to what I was about, nevertheless lovingly supported me through every phase and whim, struggle and fall, who encouraged me to live my dream even if he in some ways had not.

I know that I’ll never forget my now deceased Papa, nor how he quietly gave his all to me and Mom.  I can still picture him reaching to get the candy off the top of the refrigerator where she would put it out of reach of their pesky little rug rat, as well as the image of him waiting patiently when I impatiently left him for the better fishing holes on the far side of the bass pond.  And it’s more than a matter of simple recall.  Since his death, I’ve been able to feel the many ways in which I am as him.  His worrying about his kid has become my way of worrying, and the pleasure he found in family is now my source of happiness as well.  My hands have started to look like his once did, mine kept busy typing magazine articles and planting willow trees while his maneuvered a Forschner butcher knife through many sides of gourmet beef.  Some days I can feel the soreness that was his shoulders, from those glad and proud burdens the man once bore.  The teens of every generation do what they can to prove how different they are from their parents, but for better or for worse, a gal looking in the mirror likely faces a reflection of her mother… and in time most boys will come to see a degree of their fathers in themselves.

Once a year American families set aside a day to honor the dads in their lives with cards and sentiments that warm us to the core, or at least a Hallmark tip of the hat.  But then in another way, every day really is a fathers’ day: a day to kiss his kids good morning, and make sure they’re tucked in at night.  To guide and reassure them when they screw up, and teach them the importance of doing what they fell in their own hearts is right.  Making sure that when the school bell rings their little darlings aren’t late, and doing his part to ensure there’s plenty of healthy food to fill their dinner plates.  Knowing when to hold them close, and when to give them rein to risk and learn.  Joining with a beloved spouse, in building an Old West fort or a dreamy little girl’s fairy goddess playhouse.

As every day of the year is a day for some of us to fulfill the role of a father, so is each of them an opportunity to acknowledge, share moments with, love and honor our own dads, and also any other dads we know who are giving to their kids the best of their hearts, their wisdom, their time and life.  I’ve come to think of myself and these others as “founding fathers”: guys who found what it’s like to help bring life into the world, and how much is involved in taking care of a child once they have one.  Fellows who have found themselves running to change diapers, as well as running short of change.  Men who have found what it means to be responsible fathers, no less affectionate and willing to listen than a loving mother.  Dads and granddads who have found the meaning of life, of contentment and joy, in the priceless love of a little girl or boy.

My little Rhiannon brought tears to my eyes this year, bringing me a hand drawn card a full three days early.  It means all the more to me, since I’m not her biological source, but in every way feel and accept the responsibilities of being her father.  I want to be proof that the love that counts most, is the love that stays.

The lovely card she made features an otter frolicking next to a river, since that playful but wise animal is the one that she relates to most.  When I opened it up I could see a wolf howling at the moon, her representation of me since that’s been my nickname since clear back to my Mt. Man Rendezvous and outlaw biker days.  “Thank you,” I tell her, for being closer to me that all others, “my precious otter daughter.”

“I love you sooooooo much,” she wrote on the card, with more o’s than we can spare room for here, “I’m so glad to have a Papa like you!”  And I hope that every single day of the year can be as happy a Father’s Day for all you other fellows, too.

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Categories: Jesse Wolf Hardin – Essays & Tales

This entry was posted on Friday, June 19th, 2009 at 8:09 am and is filed under Jesse Wolf Hardin – Essays & Tales. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.