The Circle of Life

Mother’s Day.

Father’s Day.

Two days created by Hallmark.

Just like Grandparent’s Day.

And Secretary’s Day.

And you can probably add Valentine’s Day to the list as well.

Let’s be honest if any of these people meant anything to you.

You’d be giving them more than .0027397260274 of your attention every year.

That’s 1 day divided by 365.

As we “celebrate” Father’s Day today, I say why today?

Why JUST today!

Shouldn’t my kids make me breakfast every day?

Don’t I deserve a box of chocolates more than once a year?

And the same goes for Mothers.

And Veterans.

And Martin Luther Kings.

One day of love is nice.

But honoring someone you love on that special day each year has become nothing more than a cliche.

As cliche as “it’s the thought that counts.”

Screw that.

It’s not the thought that counts.

It’s the gift.

Come on -- how many ties are going to end up in the back of a closet in a couple of hours.

When’s the next time you are going to wear that “World’s Greatest Dad” t-shirt?

Personalized golf balls.

Blah!

Don’t give me something under the giant FATHER’S DAY sign at Target.

Give me something I need.

For example, I needed a new chair for my office at home.

So my kids bought me a chair.

With my money.

My eight-year-old daughter told me to “chair-ish” the moment.

That sense of humor is worth a million bucks.

Thankfully the chair cost less than that.

The last time I really celebrated Father’s Day was 2002.

Exactly ten years ago.

Little did I know that two weeks after that Father’s Day.

My father would be gone.

Gone for good.

He died of a massive heart attack.

At the age of 75.

Ten years later, the memories I have of him are just that.

Memories.

A few photos around the house.

A handful of stories.

But the connection I once had is disconnected.

A friend once told me that it took him seven years to get rid of “that” feeling after his dad had died.

I’d have to agree.

For several years after he passed I thought of my dad every day.

Slowly it became every other day.

Now, ten years later, I think of him just every so often.

Like on Father’s Day.

I’m not so sure that’s a good thing.

I’m not sure it’s bad either.

But with three of my own, Father’s Day has taken on an entirely new meaning.

Maybe that whole circle of life kinda thing.

This is the 16th time I will celebrate Father’s Day.

As a father.

The first one was very special.

I’m sure.

As was the next.

And each one thereafter.

But this time around, it has a much different meaning.

You see, my wife is pregnant.

Six months pregnant.

We found this out about six months ago.

Well, you probably figured that out.

But we’ve been keeping this info on a tight leash.

You see, we’ve been down this road before.

And with the age of the mother.

And the age of the father.

I’m 45.

I wanted to make sure things were all good before I put it out on the internet.

I’m happy to report that things are all good.

Very good.

The technician even informed us that the little nub on the monitor is not a third leg.

But rather a baby boy.

The little fella is scheduled to arrive in early September.

About a week after my father's birthday.

There’s that circle of life thing again.

Happy Father’s Day.