Their Bad Mother

Their Bad Mother

Father’s Day, Without A Father

I know that Father’s Day should be, in significant measure, about celebrating the father of my children, and it will be that, for sure. But still: I have lost my own father, and that’s impossible to forget.

Last night Emilia and I sat at the dining room table, making a Father’s Day card for her dad. “You make one, too, Mommy,” she said, and of course, I obliged, but as I sat there, crayon in hand, hovering over the words had Emilia directed me to spell – To The Best Dad Ever – I became overwhelmed with grief. How many times had I written those words, or words like them, to my dad? How many cards had I signed, how many pictures had I drawn, how many crayons were worn down writing out words of admiration and love? So many, and now, no more.


I put the crayon down and told Emilia that I was going to the bathroom. When I got there, I cried. I cried and cried and felt about six years old and when I was finally able to compose myself, I thought, this is how it is now. This is how it will always be. This loss is forever.

This sadness never goes away, does it?

I ask, and yet I already know the answer.


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posted June 24, 2010 at 11:00 am

It seems so easy to push aside the grief, with the hustle and bustle of raising kids, working, but sadly, no – it will never be the same. I lost my younger brother almost 3 years ago now and my father this past September – my life, as I saw it, has been forever changed. It will never be the same again – and sometimes the sadness of it all just overwhelms . . . . I know what you are going through. For the sake of our children we must continue, to live a happy life, to celebrate each holiday, to go on.
I love your blog! Keep showing us your humor and enthusiasm for motherhood.

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leroy reed

posted June 25, 2010 at 4:36 am

i am not a bad person its just mom is dead my dad is dead to. my famly kicket me to the crub but owell i look 4 peace in life.

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posted June 25, 2010 at 4:53 pm

The greif lessens but never goes away. This year was the 4th Father’s Day without my Dad. I cried twice…once in church and once later in the afternoon when I was by myself and actually stopped long enough to think about it. I had been pushing it out of my mind becuase I didn’t want to be sad; my children were celebrating.

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