Fathers, we hardly knew thee

Father’s Day isn’t nearly as big a deal as Mother’s Day. It never was.

It did not officially become recognized in the US until 1972, when then President Nixon signed a bill proclaiming the third Sunday of June as Father’s Day. In contrast, Mother’s Day had been officially recognized nearly 60 years earlier.

Are fathers as important as mothers? Back in the day, they weren’t.

In my family, dad was a second class citizen most of the time. He went to work and  often did not come home until we were in bed. He worked for IBM, as part of a large project. He was expected to pour his heart, mind and soul into the project. Back then, the family was secondary to his work. He left early in the morning, came home for an hour or so for dinner, and went back to work until late at night. There was only one car in our family at that time, so my mom had to take the car for a quick run to the store if we needed groceries. There were four kids to feed, after all. As he made us secondary, we found him to be secondary in family life. One time, he shaved off a mustache and no one in the family noticed for several days. It wasn’t unusual. That’s just how it worked back then.

Maybe because it was rare,my fondest memories of my dad were when he was at home. He made corn fritters for breakfast.  He loved to sing. We would go to concerts to see him in a men’s chorus.  He would dance with me in the living room to albums of the Kingston Trio. For a time, he had roles in a community theater, we were in the audience to see him play the cardinal in “Man of La Mancha” or as Lazar Wolf in “Fiddler on the Roof“. I have loved theater ever since. He allowed 9-year-old me on top of the garage to help him shingle the roof, then wrote a story about it for my birthday. I still have that story, written in pencil with illustrations.

There were other times when he completely embarrassed his three daughters (our brother was much younger). On weekend mornings, he would sit in his favorite living room chair, wearing only jockey shorts, reading.  He was a very large man, 6′ 7” and very heavy set-he stood out in a crowd. As a teen, I did not want to stand out. He told stories. Repeatedly. The same story. The same way. In every telling of the story, the theatrical pauses, the tone of voice was exactly the same. My sisters’ and my eyes rolled just as theatrically every time we heard those stories. Our only vacations were to see his family. He had dozens of cousins and aunts and uncles. We did not see Disneyland or the Grand Canyon as children. We felt cheated.

My dad and mom divorced just as I was getting married. He remarried quite quickly to a woman who did not like his family. We did not see him much for many years. After they divorced, he came back into the family. He married a third time to a woman who encouraged him to get to know his children and grandchildren. He was able to build a good relationship with his grandchildren in those few years. I think that he realized what he had missed all those years ago by not being there as we were growing up. He attended graduations, concerts, plays, and sporting events of the grandchildren, driving three hours to be there. Thank you Anne.

My dad has been gone for nearly six years now. He was a second class citizen in our family, sometimes from circumstances beyond his control, and sometimes by choice.  Even so, his role in our family was important. One that I didn’t fully appreciate until he was gone. Fathers were not valued in family life. I have made an effort to be sure that my husband’s role as a father has been much different. I’m not sure my husband realized that he was part of this effort, but I think we have succeeded. He is an equal member of our family and always has been.

I missed my dad when he was gone back then, and I miss him now.

Happy Father’s Day, Dad. Wish I could give you a big hug and smell that mix of Old Spice cologne and pipe tobacco.

My Dad, circa 1970

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