Gah! I talk entirely too much about my family of origin. I think, when babies are born, they are given two families: their family of origin and the family they choose. For most folks, it’s a smaller circle – redundant almost. For me, the two groups are pretty separate and distinct. And that’s not necessarily a bad thing. I’m lucky that there are so many people that mean so much to me – and in so many different ways.
A friend asked if I disliked Mother’s and/or Father’s Day because I no longer speak to my parents. Quite honestly, the answer is no. I miss my Dad on certain days and I miss my Mom on certain days — but rarely are they on the manufactured honor days. But it’s like missing someone long dead — the people my parents are (or some could argue, the people they became) are not people I know. It makes it easier to have a before and after.
It’s Father’s Day, and I can’t help but think how my husband will be a father… how he will face the challenges, rejoice in the good times and help form the people God lends to us for safekeeping. He’s going to be a great dad – he’s never going to give up. I love him for being a father already. I can’t wait to make that a reality.