Yesterday was father’s day. My feed pages were filled with heartfelt messages of people expressing their love for their father’s and father figures. The exceptionally lucky ones with the cool dads partied and celebrated. The few who didn’t have the luxury of a dad or the coolness level required, spent the day as any random Sunday. Some missed their father’s literally whereas some missed the relationship. Out of the million posts that I saw, one touched my heart. It said how we all have fathers. Not the one the society deems to be our father, but the one we accept. It might be a friend or a sibling or even our mothers. It’s a tough thing being a father. What it made me realize is that we are all Father’s to someone. A friend, younger sibling and sometimes our mothers. It shouldn’t be called Father’s day because anyone can be a father. To be the spirit that is of a father, being biologically related. All it takes is the sense of belonging you feel.
I can’t speak for the others, but I’m fortunate enough to have a dad. Not father, dad. He isn’t cool enough to let me go crazy wild, and yet he has let me free. He taught me my way of life for which I’m forever grateful. Because of him, I feel I’ll also be a great father to someone, someday.
With a mind that is always on overdrive, reading was a getaway. All that reading and watching the world through different eyes has lead to this moment where the world is now colored in a peculiar shade. Mine.
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