Why I hated Father’s Day…until now.

If you’re the kid in class without a dad, it’s quite apparent when your class is writing Father’s Day cards, or there’s a father/daughter dance. I used to shuffle my feet and make lame excuses when really the only reason I didn’t have a father around was because he was an ass. He decided that being a parent was too much work and he opted out.

But when you’re a kid, you don’t know that. You just know that everyone else has a dad to make breakfast for in the morning and to buy just the right hideous tie for each year. You encourage your friends to get the most awful ties out there and it feels good.

These days, I don’t think much about it (unless I’m blogging about it). I have a fabulous husband who has been there for our girls all along. He’s a good dad who loves his girls. It’s a great experience for me to see this all for the first time up close. I finally realize what a dad was supposed to do, how he was supposed to be there for me in so many ways. My girls are so lucky and I’m so happy they have a father to love and support them as they grow.

I don’t feel sorry for myself anymore. I feel sorry for him. I see the joy my husband gets each time the girls wish him a Happy Father’s Day, or hug him around the neck for no reason at all…just because they love him. My father missed that from us and he is the one who should be sad…very, very sad.