A Father’s Day Carol: A Story Not Just For Dads, But For All Men, Everywhere (Part 1)
By Corey Thompson, filed in Corey Thompson, General on Jun.21, 2009
“A Father’s Day Carol: A Story Not Just For Dads, But For All Men, Everywhere” (Part 1)
By: Corey Thompson, “The Thirsty Quill”
Today is supposed to be the day for Dads.
It is the day that belongs to all of us who are fortunate enough to carry one or more of the esteemed titles of “Dad,” “Dada,” “Daddy,” “Pop,” “Pops,” “Papa,” “Grandpa,” “Gramps,” “Daddy-o,” “Old Man,” or some interchangeable variation thereof.
It is a day for cheap polyester neckties (worn at the expense of foolish pride), overpriced Hallmark cards with shaky signatures, heart-shaped pancakes being served (undercooked or overcooked) during breakfast in bed, and art “projects” that leave a great deal to the imagination.
It is also a day for reflecting…just as I did…all day today.
I was a mess when I went to bed Saturday night. Restless and unable to sleep, my mind raced. Jenny and I, along with our son Charlie, were in the midst of a fantastic weekend at my Mom and Dad’s for the Father’s Day weekend. Yet, I had allowed my own insecurities to seize the reigns of my mind sometime during the night.
I couldn’t relax. I couldn’t rest. I couldn’t focus on the good things…on the important things.
Instead, I was haunted by my shortcomings. I laid there in the silent darkness, contemplating my own inabilities and self-evaluating my performance as “Dada” to my one-year-old son.
Ghosts of career worries and financial strains, the specters of lifelong goals and aspirations that seem to have run aground, and scores of personal demons…they all hovered above me, circling through the air, as if they were paying me a visit in some sick and twisted variation of Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol.
Yet, on the eve of Father’s Day, perhaps I was in need of a good haunting…
Enter the Ghost of Father’s Day Past.
I knew it wasn’t June. The chilly water slapped lazily upon the rickety wooden boat as it limped into the makeshift harbor. Through the fog, I saw his eyes. They told the story of a husband and father, now a widower, who had been forced to bury the love of his life at sea. She died some weeks ago, succumbing to complications from Scarlet Fever or the Scurvy that ran rampant through the miserable living quarters onboard The Mayflower. Either way, it didn’t matter now.
The hopes that had been forged before embarking on the trip that was to take them to freedom were now just distant memories. His own health had suffered since her passing, and it was hard for him to care about the landing that was to take place just a few moments from now. He kept his eyes fixed upon the horizon.
I peered through the fog that hovered like billowing smoke out of the mouth of a cannon. Then, it was there. And although it had been weeks since we had seen land, our trepidations were soon overcome by shouts of jubilation. We had made it! Most of us…
I turned my eyes back to him. He was crying, sobbing and mumbling her name as if he were to blame for her untimely death.
Beside him stood a young boy, probably no more than five years of age, who I hadn’t noticed before. His small hand reached up and took hold of the hand of the crying man and asked, “Daddy, is this the land that you and Mommy dreamed of? Is this our land of freedom? It is exactly as Mommy envisioned! She would be so pleased. It is our land of new beginnings and new hope!”
The man wiped his eyes, took hold of his trembling voice, and replied, “Indeed my son, it is.”
The fog grew thicker and hovered between us. I lost sight of the two, and I was suddenly returned to the room from whence I came…but somehow I knew that they had made it.
(To Be Continued…)
June 22nd, 2009 on 6:10 am
I feel like a broken record, but this is AMAZING!
And Corey, I hope that this haunting will show you all of the incredible things that you HAVE accomplished, and that you are someone to be admired! I hope “The Ghost of Father’s Day Present” reminds you of the incredible example you are not only to your family, but your friends. You’ve helped people find ways to become involved, ways to stop being the “silent majority” and be true Americans - powerful, passionate, loving people that are fierce protectors of their freedoms that need to make their voices heard. I’ve been told that I shouldn’t keep my “light from shining”, that I shouldn’t shy away from stepping forward out of fear, and you are a great example what a huge impact that letting your light shine can have. What we do in our lives is like throwing a rock across the water, it ripples out and touches more than we will ever know. I try to remember that when I take care of people that are sick, and I know that is true when you are teaching. There’s no way to see right now how the young people you have taught will turn out. When I was in school, I was the classic jean-jacket-black-t-shirt-wearing “hoodlum”, who was “too quiet” and “never lived up to her Potential”, and honestly, I think I was kind of marked for failure. I went back to visit my ROTC instructor a year or so ago - he was one of my teachers who really inspired me. When he saw me in my nursing uniform, he had tears in his eyes. I’m glad I did that - I wanted him to know that it took a while, but I remembered the encouragement he gave me and I did finally realize that I WAS a force to be reckoned with, and I planned to make sure the world knew it. Sgt. Marshall really reminds me a lot of you, in a lot of ways - we all could all learn a thing or two from your courage and integrity, and the passion that you have for your family, your students, and your country. Because of people like you, a wonderful stage is being set for the Ghosts of Fathers Day Future. I know your son is just a little thing now, but I know - without a doubt - that he’s going to be proud of his Daddy when he’s old enough to understand and see the incredible results of the work you are doing today.