On Friday I posted a picture on Facebook of me wearing a T-shirt saying ‘Single Mothers Rock’ with my daughter at her school Father’s Day morning tea, with the caption:
What do you wear to the school Father’s Day breakfast when the father does a no-show? My favourite T-shirt #subtle #singlemothersrock
I hadn’t woken up that morning thinking I’d make a statement with my outfit, but when 350 people liked the photo it made me think about how we bring up kids in 2016. Lucky I didn’t wear this T-shirt
My girl was in tears when her father wasn’t there like her friends’ dads; really how hard is it to schedule your work diary and show up to primary school for an hour for Father’s Day? And that is the easy part of parenting. Not going to the mother or father’s day breakfast at school is a missed opportunity for extra helpings of love from your kid. It is sad for her, but very predictable for me, plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose. I’m disappointed for her because I had a very committed dad, so I know what it feels like to be showered with love from your papa.
There were other single mums there, even a few grandparents, luckily our school puts the invitation out to anyone who is a special person in each child’s life. It’s hard for the kids who don’t have two parents. Then I heard about a woman banned from attending Father’s Day celebrations at her son’s school because she was the wrong gender. The father of the child lives overseas. Why can’t they include that mum as a VIP guest? In the 21st century maybe it’s time to get rid of the gender specific events at schools.
Today I’m going to the footy with a devoted dad to celebrate his special day because I think it’s important to say thank you and well done to our loved ones. So Happy, Happy Father’s Day to all the beautiful dads, including those like my wonderful papa Jack Pollard who are fathering from the skies. I know he’s watching over my beautiful girls and I was blessed to have a dad like him.
This week marks 14 years since I lost my dad (down the back of the couch, it was a big lounge suite). My dad was hard-working, larger-than-life, full of energy and a bit of a nut with a great sense of humour. I miss him every day.
I’m now at the age where too regularly my friends are losing their dads. Great dads who worked hard and weren’t around that much when we were young because they had to feed us and pay the bills and blokes of that generation were taught to get on with it and not complain. Lovely men who then became gorgeous grandpas who made up for the time they’d missed with their kids by sharing their attention and dad jokes with our kids. Now they’re old and frail and leaving us. As a single mum I could really do with my dad around some days, but life goes on with him in our hearts.
Farewell grand dads and grandpas. We miss you so.
I miss my dad every day so today I’ll go out of my way to avoid anyone celebrating with their fathers. My dad was cheeky, funny, lived life large, worked too hard and loved us fiercely. He didn’t have a father so he had a crash course in learning how to be a dad when my eldest brother was born. My dad had a great range of dad jokes, particularly about my fashion choices.
“You wearing that for a bet?” he’d say.
Thank you for your humour, your courage, your encouragement to read great books, your excesses, your fun and the twinkle in your eye. Love you my gorgeous Dad. I hope you’re not resting in peace, I hope you’re blazing a trail across the sky leaving all the stars in your wake.
Happy Father’s Day to all the great dads.