A Salute to Fathers Everywhere

I’ve heard people say Father’s Day, like Mother’s Day, Secretary’s Day, Boss’s Day, and so many others, was invented by the greeting card industry.  If accurate their creation marks a triumph for capitalism and the entrepreneurial spirit.  Even as we shift formats from print to digital greetings, the chance to celebrate proves a conduit for expressing our enthusiasm for our special relationships.

With my arm around my middle daughter.
The oldest is missing from the picture.

When we are children there is little difficulty locating our mother or father. They’re usually in the next room unless we are part of those dysfunctional families that are strewn throughout contemporary literature, television and motion pictures.  However, after reaching adulthood the struggle to find a parent home, even on their designated day, becomes increasingly difficult.  Some people have speculated—I believe the same ones who credit the greeting card industry with inventing Father’s Day—this is the reason cell phones came into existence.

With everyone including my son-in-law
 on the sofa in the living room.
(One of the dog's last photos.)

Since my oldest child decided to present me (or maybe it was her husband) with my Father’s Day gift a month early—my first grandchild (see previous posts)—I celebrated with her at her home two thousand miles away several weeks ago.  My youngest daughter, who lives a mere four hundred fifty miles away, was already planning to come home this weekend for her best friend’s wedding shower, so I didn’t get to see her in the flesh this past Sunday. However, I did phone calls from both of them, leaving those speculators to say, “told you so.”  There had been talk about Skype—a mythical version of in the flesh—but due to baby’s naptime and travel to Phoenix from Tucson for a farewell party for a friend moving to Michigan, we settled for the old-fashioned auditory phone conversation.

My three lovely daughters at the oldest's wedding.
It's what makes being a father special.

Naturally, the piece de resistance was my wife with her broken ankle taking me to brunch at the Alta Vista Country Club in nearby Placentia.  Not only did they have a wonderful selection of bagels, blintzes and chili relleno, but the chef made a mean omelet and the carrot cake was scrumptious.  Besides the splendid food the wait staff kept the orange juice and champagne coming throughout the meal.  As far as we know this is not only the only venue to have a brunch priced under twenty dollars, but the only place not to raise their price on Father’s Day.  But far beyond any father’s reasonable expectation my middle daughter, the young lawyer who chose to come back from law school in New York to practice in Southern California, and who along with her boyfriend who was to have surgery for a torn ACL the next day had taken me to dinner earlier in the week, left her recovering significant other to join her mother and me on my special day.  Now, I ask you, does it really matter if a greeting card company invented the event?