Happy Father’s Day, dad.
We’re taking the boys fishing, just like you and I used to, and this will be Jack’s first time lure fishing. I’m not totally convinced that’s a good idea either. I remember accidentally hooking you a couple of times while you were teaching me so I have no doubt Jack will get me too. We’ve been working on his casting and he’s doing pretty good though.
You would have loved Jack, and he would have loved you too. You two were meant to cause trouble together.
Father’s Day is a weird holiday for me. I know I’m a father–Lexi, Garson, and Jack are wonderful kids–but this holiday doesn’t belong to me. I may be a dad, but you’re dad. Father’s Day is your day and it always will be.
I try to do the best I can with my family, and I catch myself more often than not asking “what would dad do?” Aside from burning your eyebrows off rewiring the fuse box, taking us camping in the pouring rain, or laughing at me when I broke my ankle, I think you are an amazing dad.
You’re still teaching me, and we lost you years ago. I finally get it: I understand why you worked your ass off every single day of your life. Being a dad is the best thing ever, but it’s also an amazing amount of hard work. Hearing Jack ask “daddy, can you help me” in that sweet little voice of his makes my heart melt every single time. It’s so worth it.
I think you would be proud of me. I miss you.
Happy Father’s Day.