All 3 of my kids have checked in with fathers’ day reassurances, so I guess everything is OK.
I haven’t called my father because I’ve outlived him, but here’s a photo of the old man and my mother…and me, at age 9 months.
At least I can say I haven’t forgotten him.
I don’t see your tentacles in that pic, PZ.
I see the family resemblance (no offence intended to your folks).
All but one of our five have called their Dad today. He’s still waiting for that call.
OK. She called. They all passed this year’s test.
My father was a man so selfish that he couldn’t share his own emotions. I envy that you had a good relationship with your father.
Today, I was just looking at my family pictures. One taken in summer of 1955 shows my dad carrying me (in my cast–I have an orthopoedic disability), with my older brother (blind and developmentally disabled) being held by the hand. Mom is carrying my youngest sister, and holding the hand of another sister, just a toddler then. They were looking at the camera, absolutely stunned, as if to say, “This wasn’t what we signed up for.” These were tough people–both had fathers who had been union organizers in the 30s, and had made it through the Depression and WW2. My dad was a medic with the Navy in the Pacific, and my mom was a nursing assistant at Fort Worth in Texas (really an Army base, then, not a big city.) I know my dad had undiagnosed and untreated PTSD–I’ve heard that medics were especially at risk for that.. It was a great relief when, in his 80s, dad was finally diagnosed and put on an anti-anxiety medication. None of us kids had seen dad so relaxed and happy as he was those last six or seven years of his life.
I’ve never paid any attention to religio-commercial inventions such as “Father’s Day”, and wasn’t aware that it was yesterday – until my son rang and told me! I shall now forget it again.