nixtress's Diaryland Diary

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Father's Day 2006

Father's Day was spent out by the lake, fishing and soaking up some sun. I was determined to just enjoy the day a bit.
I tried calling my Sperm Donor, after much contemplation. I waffled, again and again and again. Even if the effort's not welcomed, even if he wants nothing to do with me (which hurts, still, to even think) I need to have some semblance of ...something with him. He helped create me and while I know he'll never be the epitome of fatherhood, I think for my own wellbeing, I need to make an effort. If he chooses to rebuff it, so be it and I chalk it up to an honest try on my part.
Unfortunately, ironically, his phone has either been disconnected or the number's been changed.
And then there's the matter of the boys' Sperm Donor. We're rapidly coming on a time where I'm going to have to come up with more than a basic answer as to why they don't have a daddy around. They've accepted to this point all the pat excuses I've given.
I just don't want them to grow up feeling like I did and still do. I don't want them to ever feel like they did something to push him away, like maybe even just being alive caused his absence. How did I manage to put them in the same position I grew up in? With a father who hasn't a clue who they are and seems to not even have a need to know them? I have some guilt, there, irrational as I know it is.
They're such a gift.
I've been lucky so far. They're pretty secure little guys and have just accepted that they fall into the group that just has a mom. I know, though, at some point in the very near future, I'll have some difficult questions to answer. And I don't know if I have those answers.
It makes me sad for them, even knowing they don't necessarily feel that void (or at least haven't expressed it to me). I never wanted that for them.
Tack onto that mishmash of confusion and twisted feelings the reminder that yet again, another Father's Day was upon us and the man I always called my Dad wasn't here. We drove over to the area where he died and I put a card out for him, as I do every year. I loosely tied a balloon to the tree he drunkenly smashed into, knowing it would eventually let go and float away. That, strangely enough, was a reassuring thought for me.
All in all, Father's Day was a very bittersweet day and I was determined to spend it as relaxed and removed from outside stress as I could.
And I succeeded. The boys each caught a nice sized large mouth bass and I caught not a damned thing. Go figure!
We all came home with sunburns, covered in dirt and happy.
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BabyBeater'sFamily began moving their things today. It will be nice to have some peace in the neighborhood.
I need to get in the shower. I wrangled the weedwhopper around the yard tonight and smell like exhaust fumes. Yum.
Back tomorrow.
Happy Tuesday.
N.

9:37 p.m. - 2006-06-20

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