Today is that Sunday in June that everyone knows as Father’s Day. For many of us dads it is a great day to reflect on our own role as father and the fathers and others who helped us along in this life.
Like all of you reading this who are dads my most profound joy are my children. In this category I have been truly blessed. My son Jimmy continues to thrive in his professional career of veterinary medicine and is preparing for his wedding next spring. Jimmy has lived away from home in North Carolina now for over six years. He has made his mark in his adopted community of Greensboro and Reidsville, NC and we could not be any prouder. Our daughter Elizabeth is beginning her junior year at LSU and is doing quite well. She has a great grade point average and seems to have adjusted well to college life. She is very dedicated as she is working two summer jobs right now. She has great friends and is quite busy. It was a joy to have her with Wendy and me on our recent vacation.
Father’s Day for me sometimes brings back memories of a childhood without much involvement from my own dad. In fact, I have as many difficult memories of dad as I do great ones. Fortunately, God has always allowed me to feel more sympathy than anger about my dad. His was a sad existence of unfulfilled potential. Long after my mom and dad separated I had the opportunity to visit with him in the facility where he spent the last few years of his life. Remarkably, it was a very wonderful experience and my dad was calm, warm, almost vulnerable. I will always remember that visit. But then just one year later my next memory was one of some frustration as a visit to dad was cancelled. I never really understood why, but adults seemed to be quarrelling. And sure enough, just a few months later, now some 18 months removed from our last visit, he was dead. I was all of 15 years old. I remember being very sad, more so for him than for me. At times, I often wished I could have done all the normal father/son stuff but it was not meant to be. So I have lived most of my life simply happy that dad helped create three pretty decent human beings. And I continue to love him, pray for him and remember our last visit.
Despite the reality of my dad’s difficulties, I was not shy of remarkable role models. I will always be grateful that my aunt and her new husband moved in with my family and helped raise my sisters and me. We called him Uncle Tiny because he wasn’t real tall, but he helped get me through many experiences that otherwise called for a father’s involvement. They never had kids and we often believed, in part, it was because of us. His extended family all adopted us as their own too and this always made for great holiday gatherings and summer picnics. Like father’s Uncle Tiny had his moments too. But his overall contribution to assisting me through childhood can not be overlooked. Then there was my Uncle Durel, my dad’s oldest brother. He made sure that my mom could get me through Catholic high school. And he never forgot our birthdays, holidays and is primarily responsible for that last great visit I had with dad. And there is Uncle Jimmy who was a blast to be around. He made a young boy so happy when he made sure I got to go to every home Saints game for a couple of years in old Tulane Stadium. Yes, we were there for the Tom Dempsey field goal and we stayed to the end! And then there was a next door neighbor that was a great role model for me. And I could call him Father. Our neighbor was a Catholic Priest, Fr. Hannigan. He was a great Priest; he even started me in ministry as a lector at age 14. He loved baseball, and I always watched all-star games, World Series and other games at the rectory. In this day of so many negative stories of parish priests from decades ago, Fr. Hannigan was a true friend and mentor. And one of the best fringe benefits of my wonderful marriage to Wendy was a father-in-law who although rough on me from time to time really loved me, especially when we gave him two grandchildren. Despite knowing better, he tried to make me a mechanic, a horseman among other things. Wesley tried hard, but deep down, he knew better.
It is often said that any fool can be a dad and so this is true. Real men make marvelous dads. While I did not have my own dad with me most of my young life, I never suffered from dad-like role models whose contribution to who I am today I cherish more and more as the years pass by. All of my “fathers” have gone on to the Father now and I hold their memories dear.
For a great part of my life, I never really took the time to explore the personal intimate relationship all of us are called to have with God the Father. I now know him in our own relationship. I can talk to my Father and realize that it was He who chose me, created me, and called me to serve Him and His Church. I also have come to understand that Jesus was asking me to consider the Father as Abba, which really translates closer to “daddy” than any other English word. In these last dozen or so years I have lived my life in conversation with my “daddy” attempting to do His will. And when I long to hear “I love you” or “well done son” from the lips of a father, I just need to be quiet and listen for God. He never lets me down.
So I give all the glory to God, my Father, for His everything. And I praise Him too for the fathers in my life; my own dad Roland, Uncle Tiny, Uncle Durel, Uncle Jimmy, Fr. Hanngan, my father-in-law Wesley, and all the men whose own fatherhood inspires me everyday of my life.
Happy Fathers Day dads and thank you Father for all the gifts you have bestowed on all of us.
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