My First Father’s Day, age 45.


Though I never knew the man in this picture, it’s proof my father was at one time happy.

I have never celebrated Father’s Day before today and there’s a reason for it.  For years, I thought it impossible to compliment him on anything (other than perhaps his cooking, his cheesecake).  He did however manage, inadvertently, to teach me one lesson, one my brother revealed…what NOT to do.

It was only much later, long after my father’s death, that I realized how valuable a lesson that really was and how, as a result, there is something to celebrate.  In his own very limited way, my father did the best he could.

Despite your darkness, and without ever realizing it, you left light.  Happy Father’s Day, Dad.