Two years ago, I hastily signed up for a free WordPress blog and wrote down some feelings on Father’s Day.
Because I’m completely unoriginal, I modified a similar blog written by an internet stranger. It was a total one-off, but I probably should have continued it. To my astonishment, WordPress decided to Freshly Press it, and it kind of blew up.
It felt tingly to know that something I wrote resonated with that many people. Sadly–not shockingly–nothing I’ve written since has been recognized by the internet lords, and this probably has something to do with the frequent profanity and tacky internet memes this nonsense blog is saturated with.
(I love each and every one of my 58 followers, thank you).
Many of the feelings I felt then still exist today, two years later. They always will. But thanks to the existence of this 17 pound sack of drool, I have a reason to stop being such an inconsolable ball of hate this year.
Father’s Day will never be the same for me, but that’s okay. It was never about me, anyway. I mean if there were a National Grieving Daughter Day, I would probably be leading the charge in the streets as we speak, but mercifully, that will never be a thing.
Today shouldn’t be about grief.
It should be about spending money on things. Things men like, such as power tools he’ll probably toss in the back of the shed later on when you’re in bed and maybe a case of Miller Lite.
Anyway, if you’re still reading this, know that you’re not alone if today still sucks–even after seeing those photos of my adorable baby and Leonardo DiCaprio with a beer belly.
Also know that life gets better sometimes, even when you least deserve it.