Some celebrate father’s day by firing up the grill. Charring meat to
remind the Y chromosomes of the days of hunt and feast. Toasting the
earth’s favorable nod toward the sun with homebrew and moonshine.
Elevating man to a level that includes both muscle and heart.

Others scan the candy colored hallmark rows bearing candy coated
sentiments, selecting the card that says just enough, but not too
much. An annual gesture of ‘i haven’t forgotten about
you’ …subtext… ‘but how long ago was it that you forgot about me?’

So why is it that today, stuck somewhere between a memory of a father
who celebrated solctices, beer and beating hearts and a father who
forgot his past by forgetting which side of the road to drive on, I do
nothing at all. Well, maybe not nothing. I stick a pin in a plastic
Jesus doll head and turn it into a marshmallow roasting lightning rod.
And I watch the sky turn various shades of grey outside the kitchen
window. And I try to remember the sound of his smile. And I smile. And
I write this.