“JUST LIKE A FATHER” Day

This is the Fathers Day Column from the Culpeper Star-Exponent, written by my Wife,
Rabbi Rose Lyn Jacob

Father’s Day is upon us once again. Since our lives have been turned topsy-turvy by the pandemic, Father’s Day gift giving has been a challenge. Traditional “go-to,” tried and true Father’s Day gifts from the “before times” seem out of place, if not totally useless. Neckties, long the staple of Father’s Day gifting have gone the way of the dinosaur. So have fanciful cuff-links and their raison d’êtra, the dress shirt. Today’s Father’s Day gift is more likely to be a T-“message shirt” stating how awesome dad is, or a state-of-the art barbeque meat thermometer, or, my personal favorite for the new dad, a camo-diaper bag!

I think it is fair to say that Fatherhood is a bit more challenging these days. Gone is the 1950’s television fatherhood model. It went the way of the last Edsel rolling off Ford’s production line in 1959. Dads, in general, may be harder to find these days. He might be on military deployment on the other side of the world or “doing time,” in another state. There are dads who would give anything to be healthy enough to do “dad stuff” with their kids. There are invisible sperm donor dads, and deadbeat dads. There are men who have fathered children, but didn’t stay around to be an actual father to them. Then there is the most heartbreaking category; dads who die before they’ve had the chance to raise their children, pass on values, give guidance through life’s bumpy roads, and be there for the joyous moments.

How do you honor those men who can and are willing to step in and fill the void of fathers who are unable to father? A few years back, those artistic and inspired folks at Hallmark found a “new” niche category for marketing their product. You can find these cards just below the “Father’s Day” section, with its own little tab; “You’ve Been Just Like A Father To Me.” Now, not everyone who has been helped in their path to adulthood feels comfortable expressing that emotion with a greeting card; even if they feel it. Still others would need a roll of stamps to mail the cumulative number of cards to all the men who took the time to help with “dad” things over the years, who shared “dad” values and taught life skills by example.

I’ve met many people men and women who share with me stories about these caring men and the impact they’ve had on their young lives. Like Dad’s friend who subbed for her father at the middle school Father-Daughter Dance, and made certain he was there years later to walk her down the aisle. Or the fella who made sure his neighbor’s sons and daughters knew how to change a tire, check the oil, fill the wiper fluid and parallel park, even though the DMV says they won’t test you on it. There were stories about learning how to use power tools, or a screw driver. There were stories about learning to hunt or fish. There was the guy who taught you chord progressions on the guitar and how to tie a Windsor knot. The one the one who showed you how tie a bowtie, ‘cause big boys don’t wear clip on ties to the prom! And the ones who reminded you to hold the car door open for your date, even if that has gone out of style.

Some were lessons to last a lifetime. How to look someone in the eye and give a firm handshake. How to make a budget and save for the future. And the important things to look for when choosing a partner in life. Those of you who are fortunate to be able to celebrate Father’s Day with your father, or your Hallmark “Just Like a Father,”, know how special this man; these men, have been in building the person are today.

Much has happened leading up to this Father’s Day. Covid continues in its many iterations. Natural and man-made disasters have increased in number and duration. We have grown numb or even indifferent to news coverage of mass murders, gun violence, targeted hate crimes, political divisiveness, and the war in Ukraine. And these stories have highjacked what should be an enjoyable holiday with friends and family.

Each Father’s Day, there are those who observe but not celebrate. For them it is a day to remember; a quiet contemplative day. Those who have been cut off from their fathers, for whatever reasons, will pick up the phone and exchange a few awkward words, and a few awkward silences, with a dad who is physically or emotionally distant. Unlike the past few years, sons and daughters can visit with their elderly parents. It will be a day to sit beside the once strong, now fragile man who raised you, softly recounting for him memories that once were his; knowing he no longer knows who you are.

Unless you’ve been living under a rock for the last few years, you’ve grown accustomed to news sources labeling all sorts of people as “heroes.” So here is a ‘shout out’ to those who come to bat and rise to the occasion when fathers are can’t be there for their kids. They may not make the evening news, but they are heroes none the less.

Written in memory of my father and role model, Michael Jacob.