As I got older I was no longer sad on Father's Day, I became angry. I was angry that the void was still not filled. I was angry that my father hadn't stepped up. The fact that my mother was having to be both for my brother and I just infuriated me. I was extremely greatful for her. Father's Day was for my mother. She was the person putting in all the work. She was the parent that worked a ridiculous amount of hours to keep us a float. Watching her struggle killed me and Father's Day was the day that really made it prominent. I started noticing all these "Dads" being celebrated even tho they didn't deserve to be. Father's Day is for the men that are there for their children no matter what. You can't be selfish and be a good father.
Now that I'm a parent myself I still dislike Father's Day. I am no longer angry or jealous. I've stopped grieving what could have been. Now I'm sad for a whole other reason. I'm sad for him. I can't imagine waking up one day I realizing it's too late. I missed it all. I missed all the smiles, the giggles. I've missed all the snuggles and hugs. I didn't get to be her hero. When she got hurt I wasn't there to kiss her ouchie. Can you imagine? My heart aches thinking about the pain he must feel. The what ifs would eat me alive. The guilt would be too much for me to handle.

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