Much of my writing centers around women with absentee fathers, so it should come as no surprise that I had an absentee father. Here's the thing: I didn't realize he was an absentee father until I became a parent. As a child, I thought it was perfectly normal to only see my dad for two months during the summer. Sure, he'd come to town for Christmas in the beginning, but those mid-year sightings became less and less, almost corresponding with the reveal of Santa's falsehood. (Talk about ripping a girl's childhood wonder right out from under her---no Santa and no Christmas visit from Dad. What a harsh crack of reality.)
Despite the limited quality time, there are good memories with my dad: him placing his hand behind his back and opening and closing it in a sign for me to grab it, singing with him while driving across states in the dead of the night, listening to him regale customers and friends with his charismatic storytelling. Flashes of these fond memories are still able to shine light through the years of absence, wondering if he would finally show up for one of my theatre productions, waiting to hear what he thought about the recording of my voice recital, hoping he would call me for a pop-up visit while traveling across the country. He was by no means a bad father; he just wasn't there when I needed him.
My husband is ALWAYS present, for me and the kids. (Okay, maybe he's not the best at answering text messages, but if I call repeatedly, he picks up.) He plays with our children, has long conversations with them about life, reads and sings to them every night at bedtime. We go on family vacations, family bike rides, family grocery store outings, family walks...we are a family and we do everything together. Sure, it helps that my husband and I are happily married and he lives in the same state, but he also WANTS to hang with our children because he genuinely likes them and enjoys seeing who they are growing into. And he knows how important HIS PRESENCE is in their life, that how he treats them is going to influence how they see themselves for the rest of their lives. Seeing my husband become a father has been one of the biggest joys of my life, as well as one of the biggest lessons.
I'll continue to work through my daddy issues within my writing (hey, every writer needs some childhood trauma for creative inspiration) but I can also write about parenting from my own perspective of being a parent and seeing my husband be such a good father figure. In Another Dance, though Jason is deceased, readers are able to see his immense love for his family despite his personal struggles. In Road Maps, Logan and Malcolm have a chance to work through their torrid past. And through all of my writing, I can pay homage to my past, present, and future experiences with parenting.
With Father's Day being yesterday (as of this post publishing), I realize it can be a tough day for many: those whose fathers have passed away, those who have strained relationships, or even those who just aren't close in proximity. I'm lucky to be able to celebrate men in my life that show me not only what a good father is, but what a good man should be.
So I'm going to end by including the Facebook post message I published yesterday for Father's Day:
I could never have written such a loving father character if I didn't have my husband as inspiration. Jeremy, I'm so lucky to have a partner who is present, engaged, and playful and who supports and loves me and our children unconditionally.
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