In The Name Of The Father

“What about Father’s Day?” a response from a friend when I mentioned that I was aching to write something but having a hard time finding any inspiration or subject matter. “Well, I don’t really understand it” my reply after spending several minutes trying to find some pang of something; emotion, sentiment, rage, disappointment…anything when letting the word father swim around in my head, bang about in my chest. Nothing, or more confusion, more wonder then anything else. I’ve seen plenty of fathers, devoted and strong, loving and playful, terrifying and admirable. I’ve seen it, maybe touched it a bit being witness to the job Carl has done being a profoundly wonderful father to our son but to know, to truly know what it feels to have a father? Absolutely no comprehension…. “How was it this time?” my mother’s voice strained, painted with palpable panic and concern as I hooked my little fingers to the doorframe of the car before giving my lower half a wide swing which would lift me off the ground, giving my back a midair twist before sailing into the passenger seat, the thud from my wee rump just hard enough to force the air from the seat…

Source: Samantha Sans Dosage


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