Today is Father’s Day. (At least, it is in my neck of the world.) My own father was never really a big Father’s Day celebrator, so I don’t usually make a big fuss about it myself. But there are some things I’m grateful for that tie in rather nicely with Father’s Day, so…
I’m grateful that I’ve gotten the chance to be a dad, and I’m grateful that a girl as funny, kind, considerate, smart, geeky, and all around cool as my daughter Morgan chose me to be her dad. I seriously lucked out.
I’m also grateful that Morgan’s mom, Julie, and I have been able to move past the anger we had with each other and with ourselves after our marriage ended. We’ve been able to rebuild our relationship into a solid friendship, where we can joke with each other and be supportive of each other (even as we both know and openly acknowledge that we could never be–and probably should never have been–in a romantic relationship with each other).
And I’m grateful that my father, Rick, helped teach me to laugh at and be in love with life, to help out people who need help, to fight for people who are being mistreated, to support the underdog, and to live a life of public service. He shared his love for Barney Miller, St. Elsewhere, Aaron Copland, and Bob Newhart with me. I didn’t start watching Star Trek: The Next Generation until Rick told me it was good. He told me goofy jokes, encouraged me to treat myself to guilty pleasures, and got angry with me about politics. When I’m silly, indulgent, caring, passionate, romantic, and quixotic, it’s in part because of Rick.