Fathers' Day
Is it? Theirs, I mean? Does it belong to them? I don’t know. Jury is out on that. Also, yes, I know, the apostrophe looks wrong. And if I were writing about my own dad’s day, it would be wrong, but as this is about the multiple fathers out there (and as they don’t have a collective noun), I’ve placed the apostrophe where I have. I’m sure we’ll all manage to breathe through that. Won’t we? And yes, I recognise that commercially, it has become more ‘normal’ to use the singular possessive of Father’s Day, but in this context, we are using the collective noun apostophisation (and yes, I’ve made that word up).
These days annoy me. I’ve tried to not be annoyed, but I fail……repeatedly. Whose idea was it to create special days for various roles (in this case, that of being a father) and place a time each year when these individuals are recognised or noticed or thanked? Are they not noticed at any other time? Is it as simple as making a fuss of them on this day particularly because someone (or a group of ‘someones’) decided it was a good idea? Was it? A good idea, I mean. Was it a good idea?
On the surface of it, I get it, but the reality of it………well, I think that’s trickier.
What about those who no longer have their dads here on the planet? Does having a special day make them miss them more when they possibly already carry their loss of dad around internally on any day, not just this day? Does it make it more poignant on this day? I expect it does. I don’t know for sure as my dad lives 101 miles away, just around the other side of the M25. If he had travelled heavenwards, or wherever else he hopes to go after this earthly existence, would my reaction be the same as that of another? Probably not, but I’m bound to have some kind of internal reaction to the day of today being labelled as his day.
What about those who have lost sons or daughters? Tricky for those dads too, I’m guessing. I don’t know seeing as I’m not a dad and I’ve not lost my son (although he was out of range earlier when his phone wasn’t working but he managed to get to the Apple store – yep, iPhone users – and he sorted that, but he is not lost, neither temporarily nor permanently. He’s just in London for the day and night.) But for those who have lost sons and daughters to the life that comes after this one, how do they feel on this day each year? Not one emotion will be for all, I’m sure of that, but if I were to attempt to empathise, their experience of it as a day can’t be easy or pleasant. Are they having to relive, in a more immediate way to how they do every day, the loss from which they will likely never fully recover?
What about the estranged sons, daughters and fathers? What does a day like today do to them? Do they ignore it? Some might. Does it make whatever caused the damage between them resurface and then they must wade through the stuff of said estrangement because this day has been set aside as being the day that is for the fathers? I don’t know but I suspect that internally, if not externally, there might sometimes be a response that is less than positive.
Okay, I can see that I am being a little difficult, but only really because it has become accepted that we have these days littered throughout each year and somehow there became an unwritten rule that we must align our interactions with (in this case) our dads with the label attached to the day and as a result there is an expectation to do something appropriate. I’m never fully sure what’s appropriate in any context and that issue includes this one.
Isn’t it odd really that so many of us just fall in line with the expectations concerning today? Lots of people I observe navigating their existences (and I include myself) would rather do anything than do what they were told to do, and yet, they’ll comply with this. Weird. I comply with it too, albeit internally grudgingly.
Do fathers like today? I’m guessing some will love it. Their children will have nailed it with the gift or the meal or the facetime call or the amount of time or attention they gave and all will be well. Nice. I’m sure that has been achieved by some. Other fathers will, I’m sure, feel forgotten or like their kids don’t care because they didn’t show their dad in the language or way that he could understand (or would have preferred) that they love him. They might have tried to do so, but by speaking a different language (metaphorically) to their dad, maybe that message has not been successfully passed on.
Then there are the sons and daughters who remembered only yesterday that today is the day that has been assigned as being all about the fathers. Many of these sons and daughters may have spent the evening briefly visiting Amazon to get a gift sent to their dad with Prime delivery. Yes, that was me.
Has he got a card this year? No. Why not? Because I was too late to send one and because he has had a glut of cards all containing a variation of the same message. What is that message? Which, of me and my sister, is the better or favourite daughter? Before that, the theme used to be about him being the source of monies we were seeking, but we stopped that when we realised it wasn’t achieving the outcome we hoped for. One year, the fact we sent the same card was amusing, but surely Dad is bored of all that.
This year, he got (from me) a photo of a DFDS cargo ship (it’s relevant for him, honest) taken today from the Dover cliffs and sent via Messenger (because that’s what he uses – yes Dad, I know you use other platforms too), and a Bonsai kit which he’ll either be mildly interested by or will see as a total waste of time and money. The thing is though, (here comes my rationale as to my choice of gift) he is into growing vegetables, so there is a link with that. And, you never know, this might be the start of a whole new hobby for him. I went for it and that’s what he has got. Technically, he hasn’t quite got it yet, but it is on its way, according to the update from Amazon. AND I’ve sent a message to Dad to inform him he’s not been forgotten and that a gift is on the way (it’s due before 21:00hrs) so I’m sure eager anticipation is continually mounting. (Dawn attempts irony.) The other success, as I’m seeing it, is that it’s not Liquorice Allsorts again, so that’s good. Right?
So here we are. I am just another of, I suspect, many persons who has all kinds of issues wrapped up in the days that have been created by people and for people, who recognise that these days can be damaging those very same people and those all around those people for whom it was created. And yet, here I am awaiting confirmation that my daughterly duty on this day has been achieved when Amazon let me know they did successfully deliver the bonsais (apparently, with or without the s can be the plural – who knew? I’ve only just found that out. Thanks, Google).
Happy Fathers’ Day. (I’m very uncomfortable even writing that. How can we lose the labels for these days that cause what they often cause? Help!?!)