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Father's Day

I think I am in a Father's Day funk. Holidays, all of 'em, are celebrations of family for the greatest part. Yet here I am distant and semi-estranged. This time around I am struggling with how much of this separation is mine to correct and how much is not. I wonder how much of the rejection and emptiness is today's pain and how much is remnant of my childhood, of unremembered origin.

Holidays, the time when it is most difficult for me to face forward toward the future. Perhaps I should embrace what seems natural and make these days the days of my year that I face backward in memory and reflection.

So, right now, I watch the U.S. Open and know that this year at Pinehurst my father is there, a gift returned by a son who remembers and appreciates another U.S. Open back in 1974. a open where a twelve year watched Arnie's Army mill through while dad killed some internal demons with alcohol in the beer garden nestled between three holes.

Isn't that life? Joy and pain intertwined inextricably but explicably.


( 1 comment — Leave a comment )
Jun. 20th, 2005 02:26 pm (UTC)
I'm sure that you father had a great time and was greatful for your thoughful gift.
( 1 comment — Leave a comment )