Happy Father's Day

It is Father’s Day. Unlike the holiday which honors mothers, this one seems much less commercial. Dad doesn’t care about flowers or a sappy Hallmark card. Give him a nice steak on the grill and a six pack, and he’s pretty content. If the kids show up, that’s a bonus.

The celebration has taken on a different meaning for me as I have grown older. I guess things get complicated by life and twisted family trees. My own father has gone to live with the angels and so has the father of my children. My husband, who did a great job of taking on the role of step dad when my boys were quite young, has no biological children. And now, of course, my grown sons have families of their own, so it is only fitting that they get to decide how they want to spend the weekend. Like I said, it is never easy. But I am confident that somehow we will make it work, and we will manage to be together. At the end of the day, everyone will go home tired and sweaty and satisfied. Who could ask for anything more?

I tend to be introspective at such times. Each annual milestone that I get to witness is a big deal to me, an important occasion. I think being sick has given me a sense of wonder about a whole lot of things and an urgency to share my thoughts in the hopes that one of my “ah ha moments” might also spark something. And yes, I sometime teeter between the ridiculous and the profound. At least I realize it.

Let’s face it: when you spend your days trying to visualize your uncertain future, you can get rather reflective. I am not sure if it is chemo brain or the side effects of the meds, but I often get random ideas at 3 a.m., when I am roused from sleep for any number of reasons. The old folks say that time of the morning is the “spiritual hour,” when the Divine comes to whisper in your ear and reveal some great truth about life. I don’t know if that’s a rational theory, but I have had some pretty interesting ideas in the still of the night. And I always feel compelled to share, so here goes:

Quite frankly, the world is a difficult place to live in right now, torn into opposite camps with lines drawn in the sand. People are intolerant of each other, angry over misaligned beliefs. There is so much misunderstanding and hatred. It makes me sad. And I am willing to bet that it bothers you, too. But it isn’t like we can stop the earth from spinning and jump off, right? We are stuck here, and we had better figure things out quickly before we do some irreparable damage.

So on this Father’s Day, I ask that you take a moment to talk to the Big Daddy of us all, the God of Creation, who must be so sad over what has happened to this world that He loves so much. Like any other Papa, He wants the best for His family, but He also wants for His children to get along. Ask for His guidance. Start with the prayer that begins with the words "Our Father." I am thinking that might be the best present we could possibly give Him on this day when we honor the man who gave us life. Keep the faith, everybody. Right now, it is our best chance of saving this country and each other. And certainly, although imperfect, it IS worth saving.