A Belated Father's Day
So yeah, I know it’s a tad late to be talking about Father’s Day, but ya know, screw it. Let’s talk about Father’s Day.
It was never a very fun holiday growing up because I didn’t have a dad in the house. Or even out of the house. Dude wasn’t even an every-other-weekend father, he was just totally gone. I have zero memories of him, at least none that I can access. So Father's Day was just a spot on the calendar when I got a nice fat reminder of what - who - I didn’t have in my life. Considering the prevalence of the absentee father image in our culture, I doubt I was the only one who grew up feeling this way.
But I didn't just ignore the day like it wasn't there. Instead, I used to always wish my Mom a happy Father’s Day. It seemed the thing to do since she basically carried the load of two parents on her back. On top of that, it was also a way to help me feel better about the whole thing. A way to claim it in my own way in spite of the circumstances. It didn’t make all the suck go away, but it beat the hell out of just sitting in my room hating on all my friends who did have dads to wish a Happy Father’s Day to, even if they didn’t live in the same house. Looking back, I wonder if that wasn’t a bit strange for her, what kind of thoughts and memories that might have brought up to hear her only child wishing her happiness on a day devoted to the partner that she didn’t have, that had just completely dropped off the map. Maybe I’ll ask her sometime.
You know what’s funny is, I started this as a post about homebrewing. No kidding.
Father’s Day doesn’t suck so bad for me anymore. It was one of the many dad-related things that I got to sort of reinvent for myself when I stepped into these shoes and got a look at things from the other side of the mustache. Now it’s a day I get to enjoy rather than wish it didn’t exist.
In other words, it’s a day I get to spend at home with my family, doing things like this:
The stockpot at my side contains, er, contained a substance known as wort, a tea-like mixture formed from steeping various grains in water and then throwing in hops and whatever else is going into your brew. In other words, pre-beer. And any day you get to spend with a viking helmet on your head and the smell of hops and grains in your nose is a good one.
Happy late Father’s Day, all. Cheers.