I’ve always hated Father’s Day.
Every single year, I would cry. Sometimes I still do.
I hold a lot, like a lot of resentment towards my parents. In particular, my father. I never understood the purpose of making children to not be there.
In my world, children are everything. Our children mean the whole entire universe.
My mother always made us feel like we were everything. She did everything for us to survive. EVERYTHING.
While my father had no clue, no responsibility towards what we went through. Or maybe he did know and just didn’t care.
Every year, I force myself to say happy Father’s Day to someone who I don’t even see as a father. Maybe a distant uncle who occasionally speaks to me.
But a father? That title doesn’t belong to you.
It belongs to the person who loves his kids unconditionally. The person who doesn’t see his children as inconveniences. The person who loves his children so fiercely, who dedicates all extra hours of his day to being the best dad he can be. He may not always get it right but he never gives up. He is always trying to be better. He is patient, he is loving, he is kind. It’s the person who changed the meaning of Father’s Day for me. The person who deserves to be celebrated every single year. The love of my life and father of my children.
You deserve everything and more. We love you.
(Maybe you can get a ps5)😝