It isn't that I completely hate Father's Day. I think it's important to have a day on which we honor the men who raised us, who taught us how to be independent men and eventually fathers ourselves.
It isn't that I am sad not to have had a good dad who I feel like I can honor on this day. I thank my adoptive father for doing the best he could, even though he was so broken.
It's that there is no other day of the year that makes me feel more like a fraud, that reminds me what an utter failure I was. While everyone is Happy Father's Day-ing me along with the other dads, I know in my heart that it's just because they don't know. I just nod and thank them, return the sentiment when it's warranted. But I know.
Every other day of the year I've learned to cut myself some slack. Maybe if she could stand to be around I might feel differently, but in her absence, there isn't any chance I can believe that she isn't still broken because of my failure.
She's going to come by to pick up the grandkids in a few minutes, and maybe there will be enough of a greeting from her that I'll be able to live with myself a little more easily today. But she doesn't owe me that. She's given me way more than she owes me already.
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