It’s Father’s Day this weekend- hopefully that doesn’t come as a shock- and I am 100% unprepared. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been thinking about it for weeks. What do give the man who is co-raising your daughter with you and does such a fantastic job? Do I give him the glass, travel mug he so forwardly requested via a text message and several follow up questions to see whether I looked at the mug which he requested? Do I buy a card that someone else wrote, which fits well into the context of our family, but nonetheless will be received by many other fathers this weekend? Do I buy him one more coffee toy, which would actually bring him immense joy?
These things seem so trivial in light of the deep gratitude I have for the way he fathers our child and the fact that HE is the father of our child (not that there was ever any doubt, I just really like him). There is truly nothing I could give that will express this overwhelming gratitude. So when I browsed through the card aisle, and looked at the mug he requested, I couldn’t get myself to buy one. My husband may receive nothing for Father’s Day because of my desire to give him something that reflects an immeasurable, abstract concept which is completely subjective to my feelings.
Not to mention, we have so many fatherly figures that have truly changed our lives. What about them? How do I thank my Dad for raising me and loving me as I am? Seriously, that is the greatest gift of all. Although I’m sure he’d love a new grill but how does a grill compare to unconditional love and ridiculous amounts of money spent on music lessons growing up. And Jazz, whose biological father is absent, has had a wonderful man step up and adopt him as his own son at the age of 18. What do you give a man like that?
Father’s Day, like Mother’s Day, is hard. But nevertheless, the fact that these men are still with us and present enough to give a card or a coffee mug is a blessing. Even though a card will never suffice as a proper gift, being able to say thank you to a living person is good enough.
So maybe Jazz will receive his beloved travel mug this Father’s Day, maybe he won’t. All that matters is the fact that Jazz will always be Willow’s father, and that we get to share another day together. And although I may never be able to express my gratitude for how he cares for our child, I think it is safe to say it is a two-way street.
Happy Father’s Day!