If yesterday was hard for you there’s no need to feel guilty.
Father’s Day typically comes with mixed emotions for me because of my own relationship with my father. Childhood was filled with a lot of hurt and suffering, and I spent years trying to heal a little boy in a grown man’s body.
But, yesterday wasn’t the norm.
My father and I have been texting since he had COVID last year. And we’ve texted recently in the wake of his severe injury.
The space between those catastrophic events has been filled with “good morning” texts, memes and Bible verses he shares, and the occasional “how you holding up?” call.
We’re not at all where we could be.
But, somehow I’ve made peace with where we are. I’ve managed my expectations: torn them apart, cried from the depths of my soul over them, spent hours in therapy because of them. And, so I’m good enough…right now.
Yesterday morning, I woke up to an IHOP breakfast, texts, a brand new grill, and the two ladies who matter most to me in this world.
That was the larger part of what made my day better. Being a father and being thankful for the opportunity to rewrite the definition of fatherhood in my life. Black fatherhood. Girldadhood.
As I draft this out to you, my daughter is tugging at my shorts, face covered in spaghetti sauce, singing a song about triangles.
Now she’s in the play-bin which has been temporarily relocated to our home office and unofficial jam-out space. She’s just blown me a kiss and said “I love you soooo much.”
These are the moments I’ll never tire of chronicling. This all makes looking forward to the next Father’s Day a thing.
There’s much to mend.
God’s in the restoration business.