I just realized that Father’s Day came and went and I didn’t think about my father once. I thought a lot about my husband and wanting to make sure he had a good day. I was grateful for my stepdad and my father in law, and happy that I got to see and spend time with both of them. But my actual father? I didn’t think of him once. Now I feel guilty and aggravated that I can still feel guilty about not remembering a man on Father’s Day when he spent 20 plus years doing his level best to pretend that he wasn’t a father.
In other news… my kids and my husband and I had an absolutely fantabulous sort of day. I’m just a tiny bit jealous of my kids – because I don’t have a great track record with this holiday, and my kids are going to grow up very differently…
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