Mother's Day gets all the press. People love it or hate it, but everyone talks about it. Father's Day? Not so much. This year, Father's Day brings the same thing it has for so many years now--a reminder that my dad is in heaven. This past week, there was a YouTube video I really wanted to show him. And a car. And I had a question I needed to ask him. And I wanted to see him. And I wished my dad could see my kids play baseball.
So here we go again.
Father's Day.
Who made up these days anyway? Mother's Day? Father's Day? Good grief.
Sometimes I just get really cranky about these particular "holidays".
I mean, could we come up with "holidays" to upset more people in more ways and remind them of what they don't have, what they aren't, what they've lost, and dredge up painful memories of divorce or abuse?
I suppose it's not helping to have Brian wandering around somewhere in Haiti at the moment and two boys here at home who miss their dad terribly. (OK, so he's not wandering. He went with a purpose. I'm in a bit of a mood.)
Thankfully, we've had a friend staying with us this week and the boys have been spoiled rotten, as have I. But we do all miss Brian. And I miss my dad. And my boys never met my dad. And that all makes Father's Day.....ummmm, not my favorite day.
OK, OK....I'm breaking my gratitude rule here. I better come up with what I'm thankful for.
I'm thankful for my dad. Always.
I'm thankful for the dad my sons have. Always.
Two amazing men who pointed and are pointing their families to Jesus.
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