It's Father's Day. I hope you know that none of us would be here without you!
My children have been without their father for six years now, my own father has been gone for nearly 25 years. On days like this one we can cherish their memories, but we miss them terribly. Still. I know that there are some of you out there who have lost a father too and that you too are missing them today. Losses come in many ways. Through death, through family breakups, through difficult illnesses like altzheimers. They all leave a big hole in our lives.
So to all of the fathers in my life and in yours I would like to say, Never forget how valuable you are. Know your worth. There is a little boy or girl in your life who thinks you hung the moon. Feel your heart swell, love that, and do your very best to live up to that dream. Even on the days when you know you may have fallen short, when that darn moon just keeps slipping and won't hang straight, remember, there are no bad father's in their eyes. Children are the most forgiving of all of us and you still shine for them.
Cherish your daughters. Allow them to enter young womanhood with all the confidence in themselves you can give them. Make sure they always know how valuable they are in your eyes and that no one they meet along the way can ever diminish that. My father did that. He had two girls.We were his princesses even when we fell far short of expectations. Our tiaras slipped many times, a diamond or two got lost in the dirt of real life, but he was always there to dust off the gold and restore our faith in ourselvers. He made sure we always knew our worth.
Hug your sons. They need the hugs as much as you do, as much as all the women in your life need them. Love them honestly and with understanding. Allow them to enter manhood as confident, strong and loving men, able to extend the love you've shown them, to their own children.
And don't sweat the small stuff. They haven't made a perfect dad yet - or a perfect mom. So none of us has given birth to perfect children, alas. And children know that. Give them all the love that you have and in the end, that's all there is.
Happy Father's Day!
A Shaft of Light
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Thursday, June 2, 2011
What's Going On ...
And then there's this other thing.
You're standing on a neatly kept grassy knoll. The sun is out, it's warm with a cool breeze that flips your collar up and carries the faintest smell of roses. In front of you is a gate - about four feet high. The paint is flaking and the latch shows some leak-through rust stains. At first glance you see nothing beyond the gate but unmowed grass, some tangled shrubery and wild honey suckle clinging to an old apple tree.
And then you realize that if you walk through that gate you'll see a vineyard to your right. The rows are neat and combed. The vines are sturdy and green and clusters of green-to-purple grapes bubble up among the leaves. To your left there is an apple orchard. Not a big one - maybe thirty trees or so. Their rough branches have leafed out and the beginnings of tiny round apples can be seen through the thick mass of green.
There is a cobbled-stone path stretching ahead of you and you know without thinking about it that it leads to a small shed. Behind the shed there is a stream. You can't hear it but you know it's there.
This is weird. You shake your head. The unkept, tangled mass of grasses and shrubbery stretches ahead. The gate is still closed.
Why am I imagining all this stuff? You wonder. Do I remember this place as it was along, long time ago? Impossible! I've never been here before ... I've never even been to Maine before. Did my parents bring me here as an infant? All these thoughts chase around your head and slam up against brick walls. You weren't in this country as an infant and their first visit here came after you were married with two small children. Who were not inclined to be stuffed in a car and driven to Maine. And neither were you.
Is this Deja Vu? No - it's not a flash of something, this is a 'viewing' of something you think you ought to remember. You know you've seen it before. You could walk through the gate... and see if you're right.
Then someone's calling you back to the car - everyone's leaving. With one last look, you turn to leave. Puzzled, you walk away leaving the field behind - empty except for one lonely old apple tree that's smothered in honey-suckle now.
What's going on ...
You're standing on a neatly kept grassy knoll. The sun is out, it's warm with a cool breeze that flips your collar up and carries the faintest smell of roses. In front of you is a gate - about four feet high. The paint is flaking and the latch shows some leak-through rust stains. At first glance you see nothing beyond the gate but unmowed grass, some tangled shrubery and wild honey suckle clinging to an old apple tree.
And then you realize that if you walk through that gate you'll see a vineyard to your right. The rows are neat and combed. The vines are sturdy and green and clusters of green-to-purple grapes bubble up among the leaves. To your left there is an apple orchard. Not a big one - maybe thirty trees or so. Their rough branches have leafed out and the beginnings of tiny round apples can be seen through the thick mass of green.
There is a cobbled-stone path stretching ahead of you and you know without thinking about it that it leads to a small shed. Behind the shed there is a stream. You can't hear it but you know it's there.
This is weird. You shake your head. The unkept, tangled mass of grasses and shrubbery stretches ahead. The gate is still closed.
Why am I imagining all this stuff? You wonder. Do I remember this place as it was along, long time ago? Impossible! I've never been here before ... I've never even been to Maine before. Did my parents bring me here as an infant? All these thoughts chase around your head and slam up against brick walls. You weren't in this country as an infant and their first visit here came after you were married with two small children. Who were not inclined to be stuffed in a car and driven to Maine. And neither were you.
Is this Deja Vu? No - it's not a flash of something, this is a 'viewing' of something you think you ought to remember. You know you've seen it before. You could walk through the gate... and see if you're right.
Then someone's calling you back to the car - everyone's leaving. With one last look, you turn to leave. Puzzled, you walk away leaving the field behind - empty except for one lonely old apple tree that's smothered in honey-suckle now.
What's going on ...
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