I was talking to my son Quincy yesterday about Father’s day and I became aware of something. I said to my son, “Father’s day didn’t become a holiday in my life until you were born.” It shocked me to say that but it was a truth that I had never considered until yesterday.
As a child, as a young man, I didn’t celebrate or recognize Father’s day. My father died when I was seven and I have no memories of ever celebrating father’s day with him. I don’t remember ever making him a card at school or saying to him, “Happy Father’s Day.”
When my father died it was a sad time but it didn’t really impact me until i was a teenager. My father was my past and as I got older he became more of a shadow in my life.
Seventeen years and seven months after the death of my father I became a father. I’m sure I had all the emotions that my father had when he held each of his children for the first time. I felt like I would give my life to protect my son, this gift from God.
I declared to myself and to God that I would be an example to him of what a man of God looks like and I would raise him to love God as I did.
As my Father was my link to the past, the connection to generations that I never known my son is my bridge to the future. His life and his mission would connect me to the generations that will come forth from him.
When I look in the mirror I see my father. When I look at my son I see the future. Because of my father and my son I can celebrate both.
I honor the Fathers that have lived. I honor the Fathers that live. I honor the Fathers who are coming forth.