I don’t know what it’s like to come into this world fatherless, but my own father did.
His father died shortly after his birth. My father was born into grief and raised in a strange home filled with loss and depression. Surprisingly, my father rose above it and became an amazing man, husband, and sweet father to three daughters.
My father passed away five years ago. He left a big hole. I’ve missed him dearly and yet I have never been to his grave. He told us not to go there after his burial and I have yet to return.
Today, following my uncle’s funeral, I learned a secret about my father that I didn’t know.
My mother shared that my father visited his own father’s grave every Father’s Day, every year of his life.
Father’s Day for my dad was a memory of grief, loss, and longing.
He did not want the same for us.
I believe there is nothing wrong with cemetery visits, and, for many, these are helpful and healing.
Grief is personal and different for everyone, this I know for sure. There is a universal need, however, to grieve and mourn.
In our busy society, we rush both life and death. We forget the importance of each other and the love that we share.
This Father’s Day, I hope my father is greeting his brother and they are celebrating together. I feel my father’s love every moment and every breath.
Grief still comes like a wave, and, yet, I know that love’s embrace will follow.
I am reminded that I am okay and I am on my own path here travelling where I need to be.
Happy Father’s Day, dad. And to all the beautiful souls, may you feel loved this day and everyday.
Today, I heard this whisper:
“God and dad always have your back, daughter—have no fear.”