Earlier this week I sent diapers back to the Midwest.  I have none of my own yet, but good friends do, and it always seems like a practical gift for young mothers and fathers.  Over the course of my short lifetime, I’ve played Uncle Malik and even stepfather for brief stretches.  The buying diapers, going to the Disney/Pixar movies, answering the never ending questions of a curious young mind; it all strikes a chord with me.  Primarily because I had a such an attentive father.

While I’m aware of many friends who grew up without that male figure in their home, it’s still hard for me to fully comprehend.  I’ve reached that age where it’s no longer the big memories, but the little ones: turning me over on my back when my sinuses were bothering me; hearing ‘words I had never heard before’ from him when the car broke down; the way he insists and trying to tussle my hair, even though at this point he has WAY more hair on his head than I do.

Now we’ve reached that stage where I’ve noticed him ‘slowing down’.  My reflexes are peaking as his are betraying him.  His life seems to be getting harder while mine is falling into place.  My father and I have never been the type for a wide open dialogue; that’s never been his way and in some ways I’ve taken after him.  But there’s never been any misunderstanding about the bond between us.

So to my father and all fathers out there, Happy Father’s Day!  Enjoy the big piece of chicken, you’ve earned it!