It takes more than giving birth to make a man a Dad. My Dad was flawed but kind. He was flummoxed to have four daughters. I was the last and the most transparent.

He just didn’t connect . As an adult I understand his fear. He understood gizmos much more than us. He could fix anything except a broken heart or a leaking tear.My mother filled the gap.

My Hubby was an overwhelmed Dad too but I added the fun. We did have fun!

If I could make an amalgam of a father he would have the caring of my Uncle Bob , the listening skills of my brother in law John and the curiosity of my Uncle  Chris.

So I find Father’s Day a little sad for the missed opportunities. If I rewrote my childhood it would be holding my Daddy’s hand and talking a mile a minute.