A Father's Day Query

Four simple words, simply stated, and two of my most cherished illusions were gone. Dust. I needed to back up, rethink, reassess.

My first illusion was that I was an effective communicator. I had asked a question, knowing what my preconceptions were, not realizing I needed to spell out the terms of the question more clearly. I knew what I meant, after all, so why wouldn’t he?

My second illusion was that I had been a very careful parent, successfully walking a very fine line in how I dealt with one particular topic with my kids. I thought I had followed my ideals with comparable deeds. I obviously hadn’t.

It was Father’s Day weekend, and I’d been watching TV in my living room with my youngest, Paul. He was still in high school, so this was way back before TIVO or DVRs allowed you to skip commercials. We had been bombarded for days with ads for tools, lawnmowers, cars, men’s fine clothing stores... in short, all the stereotypical presents one might buy for That Special Dad.

Paul didn’t have one in his life. In fact, the family hadn’t heard from Paul Sr. for quite a few years. I’d tried to honor the principle of not denigrating the other parent, who was not, after all, present to defend himself. Never mind that he had only himself to blame for that. The kids needed to decide for themselves just what and how they thought of their father. It was possible that once grown they’d want to reach out and connect with him. If nothing else, they’d have questions for him, and whatever came of that would be theirs to resolve. On the other hand, I also needed very much for them to know that it was no fault of their own that their father stayed away from them. There was nothing wrong with them. They were not bad kids. Quite the contrary, in fact. Mostly.

But with our family situation, the question had never come up as to what he might choose, of all the possible presents, to give a father for Father’s day. A tool? A shirt? A car gadget? Something completely creative? I had absolutely no idea, and thinking it was a completely generic question, that it was an if-there-were-a-father kind of question, a the-kind-of-person-you’d-want-to-give-something-special kind of question, I asked him, “What would you give your father for Father’s Day?”

“Oh, probably some disease.”