As Father’s
Day approaches this year, I miss my father, but more, I miss not enjoying him
more on Father’s Day. We were not estranged, but we were distant. Distance is
too powerful a theme in my family. How does one, how do I, go about breaking
that theme, creating a new reality? Often it seems easier to attempt such
change with friends rather than family, and to build close relationships there
instead. I have found that somewhat effective, but it doesn’t solve the problem
of holidays or meals.
Many of the
single people I know treat the holiday firmly like any other day—some work,
others read or watch TV, what they would do on any other day off. Reading or watching TV
while eating resolves a lot of meals for single people. Others eat standing up.
I have realized that, in addition to the previous, I have developed the habit of
eating astonishingly fast: minimizing the problem by shortening the time I’m
faced with it. Except, of course, these habits solves nothing. I am not writing
this to garner invitations. The few meals and holidays I have spent as the sole
guest of someone else’s family have generally felt hopelessly awkward. Open houses
and large gatherings are more congenial for this single person, but a lot of
work for whoever hosts them—and a lot of faith—it’s a lot of work to undertake
on a holiday if most people would rather be home with their families.
Back to Father’s
Day—I tend to duck this one altogether. As a single mother, my kids were always
with their Father. My father was always thousands of miles away. Over the
years, I began to skip church that day. Two years in a row Father’s Day became
central to the sermon, and it was painful. So now I skip church the week of Father’s
Day, or go at another point in the week if the option presents itself. This
year, I may try cooking a serving a meal at a church which attracts many
homeless people. I may. No promises yet.
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