My father passed away in 2008, and my marriage fell apart in 2013. For those of us who have experienced the dual loss of a parent and a partner, the two events often feel intertwined—one leaving an emptiness that the other couldn’t fill.
Despite the complexity of our emotions, my children and I have finally found a semblance of balance after enduring significant grief. We can navigate our daily lives without being overwhelmed by our losses—most of the time. But then comes Father’s Day.
Father’s Day can feel like a storm when you’re left without your dad and your children’s father is not around. It’s a day to be endured rather than celebrated. Though we’re told not to buy into commercialized holidays, the truth is, they matter to my kids and me. This year, I was genuinely touched when my children made an effort to celebrate Mother’s Day with breakfast in bed and a trip to a museum. I was grateful when a friend, celebrating his birthday on Valentine’s Day, hosted a gathering so I wouldn’t be alone. And I felt a warm sense of connection when I returned home from that bash to find a beautiful bouquet of flowers from a friend going through a tough breakup as well.
While we can critique the commercialization of these occasions, at their core lies a genuine intention to express love and appreciation. Why not take a moment each year to tell your mother you love her? Why not show affection to a partner? But, of course, you need your father there to share those sentiments with him—something I can no longer do.
When I say my dad was the best father imaginable, it’s not bragging; it’s my heartfelt truth. I know this sounds hyperbolic, but if you feel like you had the greatest father, then you likely did. My dad was truly remarkable, and I’m fortunate to have had him in my life. Friends often ditched their own dads to join in on his weekend adventures, whether it was fishing, art projects, or even watching movies that were way too inappropriate for my age.
One standout memory I shared at his funeral was during a trip to Japan. We stumbled upon the “For Tea Lady Festival,” which turned out to be a wildly unexpected fertility festival. My dad, ever the adventurous spirit, purchased two balloon replicas of the festival’s theme and we joined the crowd, waving our balloons with pride. That was my dad in a nutshell.
Every Father’s Day brings back memories of his absence. Last year, we faced the additional challenge of my children’s father not being present. I can’t recall precisely what we did, as I’ve tried to block out that day. Perhaps we took a bike ride, which would have been a fitting tribute to my dad, who loved those moments in nature with me.
This year, my daughter’s high school graduation coincides with Father’s Day, and my ex is coming back east for the celebrations. He’s even considering relocating back here, which could be a game-changer for our 9-year-old son. Knowing my son will have time with his dad brings me a new sense of appreciation for Father’s Day. As I ride my bike with “Sounds of Silence” playing in my ears, I feel a connection to my own father.
Navigating these special days can be tough, but there’s always hope for new memories and connections. For those seeking more information on family dynamics and parenting considerations, resources like this guide on preschool visits can be incredibly helpful. Additionally, for anyone exploring options for pregnancy or home insemination, this excellent resource on IVF is worth checking out. For those interested in home insemination, consider this article about artificial insemination kits.
In summary, while Father’s Day can serve as a painful reminder of loss, it can also be an opportunity to cherish memories and celebrate the relationships that remain.