Yesterday was Father’s Day. I suppose you could say I celebrated the day. Really, it was a normal Sunday for us, which meant spending most of the day with my family. All though, when we did go out to eat I did use Father’s Day as an excuse to order something I ordinarily wouldn’t.
The highlight of the day was just watching my family enjoy spending time together. There is so much I still want to accomplish, but it is hard to argue against the joy of watching happy children be sweet.
I also thought back to my own Dad. The story that always comes to mind how my first two years of high school, before I could drive myself, I would need to be picked up after school from drama club three days a week when we were rehearsing a show.
I remember my parents would alternate. I can’t remember the system. I also remember that my dad would also pick me up after the performances. I think he ended up watching most of them as well.
And I remember that he would wait for me to be ready. He’d give me time to socialize a bit with my friends and cool down from the rush of performing.
Now, I’m sure there were times where he hurried me along. We are human after all. But I know that he saw that time as something important to me, and so he gave me the gift of letting me enjoy it. And along with that came his power and support.
The stereotype is that the former athlete dad has a kid (especially a son) that wants to do drama there are supposed to be fireworks. My dad flew in the face of that one.
And as my own children grow, I’ll endeavor to show the same respect for the choices they make.