Moving On Without Dad

My dad died when I was 21. I was still growing up and needed a dad, even though I had moved out on my own. Father's Day wasn't too bad; I was in a student single's ward. The only families that attended the ward were the bishopric's families. But the Father's Day sale ads were hard. I didn't have a dad to buy for anymore. And I had wish I had taken advantage of the gift giving while my dad was still alive. Maybe the reason I was so forgetful was Father's Day was always after school got out for the summer.

When I was 22, I joined a LDS sorority at Salt Lake Institute of Religion, even though I wasn't a student. One of the activity was a daddy daughter date. Most of the young women were able to bring their fathers since they either lived at home or not far from home. I asked Uncle Victor, my mom's uncle to be my dad for the evening. My mom would always visit him and his wife when we came to Salt Lake, so it made the choice a lot easier.  I felt a lot less awkward having him there.
I don't remember any other activities that involved a dad, except for maybe celebrating Father's Day at church when I attended a regular single's ward. Usually during sacrament meeting on the third Sunday in June,the assigned topic for talks would be about fathers. It didn't bother me too much, unless one of the opening or closing hymns was "O My Father" which was sung at my dad's funeral.  The first time, I heard it I made a bee line for the ladies room as soon I heard the person who was praying said Amen. Even after I attended a regular ward, I would wait until the opening prayer was said before going into the chapel if I noticed the opening hymn was "O My Father".
After 15 or 20 years, I got tired of not being able to celebrate Father's Day.  So I sent my younger brother, Steven flowers. He is dad and that act took some pain away. Steven doesn't always get a Father's present and when he does, it usually isn't flowers.

Since my mom's death I have another father figure. Not so much in my life, even though Jay, my youngest brother does drive me to Costco and other places. Jay has been my oldest brother's caregiver. Every month, Jay drives to the Magic Valley every month to buy Mike groceries and other things that are needed. During the warmer months, he does yard work. We all help out financially, but Jay contributes the most time to Mike's care.
The ads for Fathers Day are getting less painful, probably because I can delete from my email immediately instead of stuffing the ads behind the rest of the newspaper. And heck, it's been awhile since my dad's been away. Life does go on.

Father’s Day

Father’s Day is a hard holiday for me, but I have to admit it is getting better as the years go by. My Dad passed away in February 1980, so that month is usually difficult for me, especially President’s Day weekend. But at least, with Father’s Day it is only one day. Not much happens at church; compared to Mother’s Day, it is less of a fuss. No flowers, maybe the Primary will have the children make something for their dads and sing during Sacrament Meeting. But if the congregation sings “O My Father”, I might get a bit teary eyed. That hymn was sung at my dad’s funeral. I once remember heading straight to the women’s room when that hymn was the closing song. I thought I had dealt with the death of my dad, but on that day, I realized I hadn’t.
I never really gave my dad a father’s day present. I don’t remember doing anything in Primary (which was held during the week in the 60’s and 70’s). And I don’t remember Arts and Crafts during Sunday school. But there would usually be a Father’s day program during Sunday school opening exercises. (A general meeting before we split up in our individual age based classes.) That was probably the extent of remembering my dad on Father’s day. When I went to college, I do remember buying a box of chocolates and giving it to my dad, when I made a surprise visit home. But I think that was the extent of my gift giving.
When my dad passed away, I realized I no longer had the option of giving him something on Father’s day and that has made Father’s Day hard for me. But over the years, I have learned to cope. Once I sent flowers to my brother, who is a dad to two teen age boys. Last year or maybe it was the year before, I sent flowers to my cousin so he could put the flowers on my dad’s grave. My dad is buried in the San Luis Valley of Colorado, where he grew up.
Even though my dad is gone, I can honor him by remembering the values he passed on and making a good attempt to walk in his footsteps. And when I really stop and think I realize that is something I’ve been doing all along. Something we can all do as we honor our dads on Father’s Day.

A Man I Have Never Met

I never met my paternal grandfather, Lafayette Jackson, but I have witnessed the legacy he left behind. I have seen in it my father and his siblings, my siblings and my cousins. My grandpa died when my dad was three years old, so I never got the chance to know him personally. But from what Aunt Isabelle has told me, I've learned that my grandpa was kind. Although my dad was very young, when he lost his father to cancer, my dad knew that his father loved him. And my dad loved us. My dad was a kind soul, so I know in those three short years, my dad was able to learn a lot from his father. My cousin, William Jackson, set up a blog about my grandparents. It is titled “To my Jane.” http://www.lafayettejanejxn.blogspot.com/ . Although, William hasn’t updated the blog in a year, I find that I learned more about my grandpa, a man I never met, but know.