Funny. I don’t remember much of anything that went down this time last year. Maybe it’s some sort of COVID related amnesia syndrome without my ever actually acquiring the disease itself. Which is OK by me.
Not that there would have been much to remember. As I wrote in the paper last year I am merely the “local dad.” And I think that title still fits. Joe and Sarah don’t need a father. They have one already. He just doesn’t live anywhere near here. But they stay in pretty constant touch with him through the miracle of cell phone and zoom. I can’t visit with Buck unless I invest in a Ouija board or go see that psychic lady outside Mayflower.
No. I don’t remember Father’s Day of last year because there is no point. Being a stepfather is mostly an honorific conveying no real power or duties. So I’m certain that nothing resembling a fuss was made over me. That, too, is OK by me. I’m not one to stand on ceremony around here. Or anywhere else for that matter.
But I don’t remember much about last year period. And what I do recall ain’t real good. So much fear. So much anxiety. So much misinformation. So little to do.
I was visiting with a friend at her business yesterday. And she allowed as how it feels as if she and her husband have to re-learn how to “do” other people. To be social again. She and Chris bought a big house just in time to not be able to open it up to others.
I can relate. We had only been here @ year before we were in the same boat. One of the things the Deacon liked about our house was the potential for entertaining, especially on the porch and the deck.
And yet, now that we and all of our friends (that we know of) have been vaccinated, we still seem not to be able to get out of that inert state. We still order out instead of going out. And we still haven’t had many folks over. Or been invited to that many people’s homes.
It’s like we are all still “comfortably numb” as Pink Floyd once put it. It’s like we aren’t really doing what we said we would do once the plague has passed our doors.
So maybe this is the best way for a quasi or pseudo dad such as myself to “do” Father’s Day. I hit some sales. Will either play or watch golf today. Maybe participate in the “form” of Father’s Day as Plato might put it, since the true import of the day is nothing that applies to me. Or some damn thing.
And like I said. That’s OK by me. I’m in a good spot. We are all coming out of the fog.
Maybe I’ll go see that lady over to Greenbrier. Perhaps paying to communicate with the next world can become my particular Father’s Day tradition.
Better to consult a professional because fooling with a Ouija board on this or any other day is to indulge in rank superstition. Right?
Happy Father’s Day!
