Happy Father’s Day

FATHER. DADDY. DAD. Father is the neutral term, encompassing the entire voyage from daddy to dad, from infallible superhero to endearingly flawed man. Today we celebrate that voyage as much as we do any one person.

Daddy is the one who could do no wrong, the dashing one with the comforting smell, be it of after-shave or pipe tobacco; the one whose stories were enthralling, whose laughter was contagious. He was the one who punted the ball impossibly high, who could have played on the nation’s Davis Cup team if he’d cared to make tennis his vocation. Daddy was the one whose legal pads and briefcase seemed as exalted as Thomas Jefferson’s papers.

Daddy was enduring, a timeless rock of Gibraltar. Or so we thought. Gradually the sea of time brought a new kind of comforting presence into our life. Dad’s step wasn’t nearly as purposeful as daddy’s had been. There were occasional stumbles. His stories were all-too familiar. We’d still sometimes brag about him to our buddies, but at other times the words “my dad” were accompanied by a rolling of the eyes. As in, “My dad threw a birthday party for the cat.” Or, “My dad sings Agustin Lara songs in public.”

Appreciation also colored the more nuanced relationship. No longer superhero daddy, fallible dad’s sacrifices for us became more discernible in the rearview mirror. Concern ultimately crept into the relationship too. “Did dad look OK to you?” we’d ask each other. He’d downplay any illnesses near the end, still trying to be daddy, changing the subject to a son’s career or the long-departed cat.

Dads can become daddies again in life, in the form of granddaddies, but not always. The sea of time can be whimsical, extinguishing a dad’s life a mere few weeks before his son becomes a daddy. But no matter, in death dad is immortalized -- as forever daddy.