Father’s Day has always been an odd holiday for me. I have no problem with Mother’s Day. My mother is a good woman. My Father was absentee when he was best, and abusive when he was not. I remember sitting on the floor while my mother was being hit by him. The fear of a child who didn’t have anyone to hold him during this traumatic life was present. I’ve always tried to be a good father. I didn’t have much idea of what fatherhood would be like until my son was born. That was repeated when my daughter was born. With both, I remember a swelling of my need to be a good man. I know they will learn from how I treat their mothers. I love Cammy. I love Will. My Father’s Day will continue to be written by who I am, instead of who he was. Write your own definition if you are in a similar case. Happy Father’s Day.

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