Megan and Jessica last brought you Alternative Mother’s Day Cards.
My Dad, the vegetarian cyclist who looks good in coral
It’s okay that broiling mammals isn’t your specialty, the grill not your domain
That you wave your hand in front of your nose at the roar of a diesel engine
That your fastball is a travesty
That your favorite shirt is the color of a glow-in-the-dark lawn flamingo
You say if I follow your lead, I’ll be saved from acid farts and heart disease
From the planet suffocating on our toxic excesses
From jock mentality and bro itch
From not seeing the world in blacks and whites, or passé pinks and blues
But the choice is mine, you tell me
I am self-responsible (when you’re not helicoptering me)
And you, Dad, are one in a million
Or one in four in Brooklandia
***
What is a father (who doesn’t think his wife and kids are a punchline)?
First one to start throwing random cupboard items into a pan when family members look hungry
A seeker of that very particular toy the baby desperately needs to shut up
The guy who calls a sitter, so he and his partner can still get sloppy-dancy drunk on a Friday night
Healer of bad days by providing a warm-chest that’s easy to snuggle into
Errand-runner of dish soap, pet meds, birth control, his own dress slacks
Responder to cries both melodramatic and legitimate, cries of his name, cries of “you gotta be kidding me” from the eyes, cries that simply require silence and a little humoring
***
For Dad, who makes a better parent to an adult-age child than a small child
You may have missed out on bedtime stories
And “how was your day?” dinner chat
But when I broke up with my first live-in boyfriend
You asked me no questions, helped me move out stat
Sure, you only attended a few of my races
And always seemed to be running 45 minutes late
But at 21, you took me to a sweet back-alley blues club
And bought all the drinks, unlike my regular dates
And, yeah, you yelled when the chores were done half-ass
And got upset when the living room looked harried
But now you’re the perfect company for quiet walks
Having mastered the uh-huh nod of a man twice-married
But even back then I understood you worked hard for us
Showing love through your well-earned wage
These days it’s just easier to accept each other
Both of us chillin’ in our older age
***
For Dad, the (sorta) sentimentalist
They say dads aren’t big on reading or words or even the formality of cards themselves. But you, dear Dad, I know will appreciate all the gratitude I’m about to pour onto this 5×7 double-sided cardstock because you can be a big softie when you want to be. For example, you’ve always been a great hugger, and when I’ve felt bummed or lost, I knew I could run to you and feel safe. Unless you were in a bad mood, then I knew to stay away. But even in those times when I stayed away, it prepared me to take the temperature of my future boss or my partner when I’d want something from them as well, showing me that no two adults can be manipulated treated the same. You also showed me what dependability is, and whenever I needed you to fix Bear’s broken arm with whatever adhesive was in the tape drawer, or to take me to the mall to meet my friends so we could look at boys that we would never talk to, you were there for me, if you were home and not sleeping. But even right before you’d fall asleep, I’d sometimes knock on your door and you’d let me into your room and we’d watch HBO stand-up specials, and you wouldn’t even bother to care about all the cuss words I was learning, and we’d laugh together, along with the audience, even though I got maybe, like, only five of the jokes. Regardless, it was a nice few minutes of bonding that made me feel adult-like, made even better by the fact that your room was the only one with air conditioning. But above all else, through our HBO sessions, I learned the value of TV, that after a long day of work, it was okay to lie down, turn it on and not think. Television: Both a tool of togetherness and decompression. Thank you, Dad, for this, as TV has pulled me through the sloughs of adulthood. Anyway, this is all to say that I think you’re tops. Plus, I figure the more words I write here, the less you’ll notice I had no idea what to get you for Father’s Day. Love you lots! Xoxoxoxo
***
From a legitimate daddy’s girl:
My therapist says you should be the one paying my therapy bill, but I guess that’s also the problem.
***
Tags: dads, father’s day, jessica machado, Megan Piontkowski
Oh dear, now I have teary eyes.
For Dad, who makes a better parent to an adult-age child than a small child
Well, that one hit me right in the feels.
YUP.
But even back then I understood you worked hard for us
Showing love through your well-earned wage
These days it’s just easier to accept each other
Both of us chillin’ in our older age.
Crying at work. Good job, Rosie M. and Dad Banks.
Fuuuuuuuuck, I can’t bear it. “Both of us chillin’ in our older age.” This is how it should be, and you should be here to get this card for Fathers Day, and to celebrate your anniversary with your second wife next week, and the fact that you’re not here hurts. so. fucking. much.
I hear you. My father died when I was ten. I suspect we could have had a closer relationship had we known each other as adults, but it was not to be.
Oh god, just realized I have made it to the age of 29 with no idea how to pronounce the word “sloughs.”
Would help, but this 34-year-old doesn’t know either.
Rhymes with Hoffs?
I think “sluff”
Apparently it is “sluff” in the sense of “slough off dead skin” but “slew” in the sense of “sloughs of despond”????
WHAT THE HELL, ENGLISH
Two separate etymologies, convergent spelling. Like “cleave” (together) and “cleave” (apart).
Reminds me of this classic bit of television: http://youtu.be/g10jFL423ho
I love these so much. I may just email the page to my dad.
“And you, Dad, are one in a million
Or one in four in Brooklandia”
Hahahahaha. All of these were amazing.
I need a “dad, you provided for us, but have never once told me you love me, and that is something I kind of needed growing up” card. The “adult-age child” one is close, but mine is not that cool.
Yeah, I feel you there. I can count on one hand the number of times my dad has told me he loves me; but, on the other hand, my mother has never done so (at least, that I remember).
Sometimes being a practical New Englander is rough on the emotions.
I almost had a meltdown in the card store while trying to select something for my dad last week. I love my dad (he and my mother have also never told me they love me and I accept that this is how my family is but it still hurts), but I can’t get behind cutesy sentiments of “best dad ever” or “king of the grill” (because who the fuck cares about grilling?) or anything about constant love and support. I had to buy a blank card that just said “Dad” on the front with a design of a shirt and write my own stuff inside that carefully toed the family party line.
Oh look, I’m having my meltdown here. :p
DADS
Dear Dad:
Sorry for never letting you forget
That time you said
“Walk it off,
It’s only a sprain’
Even though it was actually a broken ankle
that hurt real bad
But otherwise you’ve been a pretty great Pop.
Dear Dad:
Sorry for never letting you forget
That time you totally forgot to pick me up from school
And I stood on the corner
Downtown
For an hour
I know you felt really bad
And otherwise you’ve been a pretty great Pop
(This problem could have been solved with cell phones)
My dad ran over my foot when I was 24. (Nothing broken, just a bruise. He thought I was in the car already.) He felt so bad about it that I never brought it up again.
Figures that on the one day in weeks I decide to wear mascara I’m crying at my desk.
Dear Dad,
You’re a master manipulator
And I can never tell
When you’re telling the truth
Rot in hell.
Dear Dad,
You never grounded me when I did wrong,
Rather laid on a masterful, lecture-length guilt-trip.
I think it ultimately made me a better person,
Though riddled with self-doubt and anxiety.
So thanks?
Co-signing this as the adult child of a psychotherapist.
Oh my god. My mother the social worker/therapist used to describe her and my father’s parenting style as “laissez-faire” with a bit of a wink, before I even knew what that meant.
Dear Dad, you know what’s awesome?
You never questioned why
I moved across the country
To shack up with that guy.
You always had high standards,
I always aimed to please.
You hoped to spawn an engineer,
I chose humanities.
You always treated Mama right:
I never dated dicks.
You still support my choices–
Let’s just not talk politics.
My father died in 2009, on his birthday, and I remember that the day after we got the news was father’s day. I still miss him so much I can hardly take it sometimes.
Dear Dad,
You never came to my graduations
Or visited me in my city
But you call twice a year
And paid for my college
So, thanks I guess.
Dear Dad,
You lived a whole life before I was born.
Navy doctor in WWII, two wives, seven kids.
Well loved and respected by all who knew you.
Humor, wisdom, kindness and humility; you stood apart.
Dad, it was weird growing up sometimes
My 8 years to your 75.
My friends saw the oxygen tank and laughed.
We never could do any of the normal stuff.
But you filled our house with opera and olive salad and playful teasing.
I saw your tender love for Mom, for us.
I massaged your head after the stroke (you said it really helped!)
Watched Louis Rukeyser on Friday nights with Coca-cola and Doritos (our weekly treat!)
I’m sorry Dad, but I couldn’t be too sad for myself when you left us.
I was sad for Mom, I was sad for your brothers and friends.
I knew you had lived more than one life in 79 years.
I know you are still alive within me.
goosebumps!
Lovely!
Lovely!
My dad ran over my foot when I was 24. (Nothing broken, just a bruise. He thought I was in the car already.) He felt so bad about it that I never brought it up again.
I miss my dad.
Dear Dad.
Thanks for beings so great those other four kids.
Go to hell.
Dear Dad:
I rarely knew where you were or even if you were alive. Stepdad got cards, when mom bought them. The hole you left in me has never been filled. You are more than half of why I lay awake at night terrified I will ruin this little life inside me. I just wish I knew why. You say mom kept you away from us but I do not believe. You wrote us out of your life because we allowed another man in. I will probably never forgive you.