This is a quick little episode to celebrate Father’s Day; my 26th Father’s Day without my Dad around for me to call, text or to give a cheesy or homemade gift to. The 8th such holiday that I am being heralded as a Dad. That’s pretty cool for someone who never imagined even being able to find the right person to marry, much less have kids.

My Dad’s last Father’s Day was during my Senior year in High School. The doctors had very recently diagnosed his brain cancer. I was 17 and that was the last time I would be able to praise him for being the fantastical Father that he had been to me and my 7 siblings. I well up with tears as I look back on my 17 year old self, completely unable to process what was going on. It is what it is, but I can’t stop regret from flooding over me when I think about it. Regret for the things I never said, for my fear of being present and dealing with the situation better. Even just to take a handful of minutes to think about what he must have been going through. Aside from the obvious of his steady decline from the cancer, the shame he was feeling of having his teenage son, his youngest, his baby taking care of him during that time. Now, an adult, and a father, I cry just thinking about how I would feel with my kids having to take care of some of the things I was doing for my Dad in those final months and weeks of his life. I know it brought his humility level to a place no adult or parent ever dreams of going. He was a great man, a wonderful Father and at the most basic level of everything: I miss him greatly, whether it is Father’s Day or not.

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