Getting Through Father’s Day Through Careful Avoidance

The month of June is not a great friend of mine.

My dad passed away in February 2012, and the way the dates lined up that following June was a bit cruel for my family. In 2012, Father’s Day landed on Sunday, June 17th. Dad’s birthday was Monday, June 18th. My parents’ wedding anniversary was 5 days later.

Needless to say, it was not a great week overall; my good friends, Ben and Jerry, may have made a few appearances.

When my dad was alive, those dates landing in the same week was really convenient for all of us. We could celebrate all three events at once and call it a day.

Unfortunately, what was convenient in life became pretty horrible in death.

That first year I found myself getting furious at the calendar, which looking back seems a little silly. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, but I definitely wanted someone to blame. Of course, the only real person to blame was Dad — if he hadn’t died, that week wouldn’t have seemed so ominous. But I didn’t want to blame him. I wanted someone else to blame. And when there isn’t anyone else to blame, you end up making up reasons to blame yourself.

I think self-blame has to do with the pressure and guilt that can be attached to these “significant dates.”

It’s easy to mark the day in red on the calendar in anticipation of it being horrible; conversely, it’s easy to feel the need to combat it and make it “better” somehow by doing something lavish in remembrance of your loved one or by filling your day with things they would have liked doing. And of course, if you don’t think you did what you were “supposed to do,” (or what someone else told you that you should do,) it’s easy to beat yourself up as if you did something wrong.

The funny thing is, I don’t think my dad would really care if we did anything. Looking back at how we celebrated his birthday and Father’s Day during his life, he didn’t seem to care if we did anything at all. Sometimes he would go golfing or fishing by himself. The most extensive thing we would ever do as a family was go to the Art Institute in Chicago, and that was only if a really good exhibit was showing. More often than not, dad would grill bratwurst from our local meat market (because he was the griller; we weren’t allowed to grill for him because we wouldn’t do it right) and fall asleep watching the Cubs game after lunch.

I think if he was around, he would probably encourage us to chill out and take a nap.

Obviously, whether you choose to do something or not is a very personal decision, but I think what I’ve come to realize is that “significant dates” are what you make of them. Whether you need to take the day to be alone and cry or whether you make the day into a celebration is completely up to you. It can be whatever you need it to be. For me, I don’t think I really need it to be anything.

Of course, in our culture, it’s pretty difficult to not make something out of Father’s Day. To that end, I’ve found it helpful to avoid certain things:

Church 

I have not gone to church on Father’s Day the past three years because my church usually does a special Father’s Day service, and hearing about other people talk about their living fathers isn’t something I need or want to partake in.

Social Media

I make a conscious decision not to go on social media, because seeing everyone’s photos and posts about how wonderful their fathers are isn’t really my jam.

Target + commercials

The week (and sometimes the month) prior to Father’s Day, I re-route my shopping experience in Target to work around the Father’s Day end caps.  I keep commercials on TV muted so as not to be bombarded with “GET DAD THAT SPECIAL GIFT THIS YEAR.”

For those who still have living fathers, I’m not trying to discourage these practices altogether. 

I get that Father’s Day will always be acknowledged at church because it falls on a Sunday, but it would be nice if we didn’t have a whole service with special music and guest speakers dedicated solely to fathers.

I understand the desire to post a photo of you and your dad on Facebook, but the mile-long accolades about how your father is the best father and you can’t imagine what it would be like without your father would be better served written in a card, not posted publicly for those without fathers to see.

Those things can be give-and-take, but there are other things that take more careful avoidance.   It’s been a re-learning process, and while I wish I wasn’t in a position to have to re-learn how to live my life for an entire month, it has absolutely gotten easier over time.

I always go back to what Meghan Tonjes has said about grief: it will never get any BETTER, but it will get easier. There isn’t any way I can make Father’s day better for me because I will never again have my father around to celebrate. There will always be significant moments throughout my life that my dad won’t be there to see. Nothing makes that better, but time makes it a little less hard.

Where you’re going to be at this particular year will depend on a lot of things.  If you’re going through Father’s Day without a father for the first time, I wouldn’t expect it to be an easy day.  You might need to eat ice cream and yell at your calendar for a while, and that’s okay.

If you are on the continuing journey of being father-less, I very much hope that it feels easier for you as time goes on and that you have something to take comfort in.

If you still have your father in your life, respect and courtesy toward those who don’t would always be appreciated.