The fathers in my life have all been good men. I am grateful, too for the father-in-law who was so kind to me. Not everyone is so fortunate. These men did not ever, so far as I know (and I have always paid attention), abused people, picked fights, or assumed they were entitled simply because they were who they were. They were and are all the other things, the things anyone might hope for in a father: loving, patient, and present parents.
I have decided to cut back on gift-giving, at least a little because I overdo, and to do something otherwise for holidays and birthdays. So today, happy Fathers Day! And may the days that follow be fine and sweet!
My favorite photo of my dad right after the war. (WW2)
Gary had pigeons as a boy in Arizona. Here he is on our 40th anniversary on the coast! Today.
Our firstborn in his daughter’s room. She has two dogs.
Our son who says he has now “arrived at the fish pun landmark in life.”
My favorite father poem. A poem I have shared many times. They often struggled to consider discipline a good thing, to recognize that the child’s screams are hysterical, not literal.
The Gift
To pull the metal splinter from my palm
I can’t remember the tale,
Had you entered that afternoon
Look how I shave her thumbnail down
*And while I have your attention: Please don’t smoke. Both my father and father-in-law were killed by smoking, a habit they developed while serving their country during wartime. We know smoking is deadly. We know almost no one begins smoking after their childhood—I think of that every time I see a young person smoking. We all do stupid things when we are young, and cigarettes are designed to be habitual. And they kill. These smoking children cannot conceive of it now of course, but it’s likely that some day someone or several someones who love them will cry over their hospital bed. I know.
My favorite father poem. A poem I have shared many times. They often struggled to consider discipline a good thing, to recognize that the child’s screams are hysterical, not literal.
IMPERFECT PATIENCE 
Nice photos particularly of your Dad! Most beautiful poem.
On Sun, Jun 16, 2019 at 9:53 AM IMPERFECT PATIENCE wrote:
> janpriddyoregon posted: “The fathers in my life have all been good men. I > am grateful, too for the father-in-law who was so kind to me. Not everyone > is so fortunate. These men did not ever so far as I know (and I have always > paid attention) abused people, picked fights, or assume” >
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Thank you about the photos. That poem gets me every time—it is widely available online, and I am sorry not to be able to get the formatting right..
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“to recognize that the child’s screams are hysterical, not literal.” wonderful line. Beautiful poem, thanks for sharing, and lovely post.
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Thank you, Karen.
Years ago we attended a birthday party for a little girl—mostly an excuse for the parents to visit. The kids were running outside, doing laps around the house which was set in the woods. A little boy tripped on a root, and Gary saw him fall from inside the house. He ran out, picked up the child, and checked him over: “Here’s lets see how you are.” A bump and scrape and Gary soothed his tears. There actual father of the boy was three steps away, beer in hand, chatting with buddies, and missed the whole event. I have been fortunate to know fathers who hear cries, fathers who respond with reassurance.
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