The Obligatory Father's Day Post

April 19th. Just before 2PM. It is time for the groom, groomsmen and the marrying minister to assume their places behind the door. The music cue is getting ready to start. Honorary bridesmaids, of which there are multitudes, are getting ready to take their spot. The singer is warming up. One of the nieces of the groom has read the first set of verses in scripture. The ushers are escorting grandmothers and mothers.

The groom and his older brother (not the oldest, who is trailing because he felt the need to find some water) make their way down the long hallway. The following exchange takes place:

Groom's Brother - "Well, are you ready, big boy?"
Groom - "Absolutely."
Groom's Brother - "Not nervous?"
Groom - "Not at all."

A slight pause. Some emotion, a touch of the melancholy, creeps into the groom. He looks at his brother and chokes out, "I wish dad was here."

The groom's brother gives a knowing look of shared sadness. "I know. Me too."

And that's that. With those nine words, everything that needed to be said about the father who was present in photo only and represented by a candle, was said. Both the groom and the brother had hours worth of discussion with those simple nine words.

The groom said, in his five words, so many things. He communicated that it was one of the extreme sadnesses of his life that his bride will never know the father of the groom. Even though the father was not the greatest dad, he wasn't exactly the worst, either. But the groom is convinced his father would have absolutely loved the bride. And though his father could be distant, many times invisible, he had this odd warmth that he would share over dinner or at a movie.

The groom said, in five words, that he had finally had come to a place of peace and contentment with his father. He had said all the ugly things you say to a father when you are convinced he left you and hurt you out of selfish reasons. Then the groom even apologized for most of the words. The father talked about his life, his faith, his background and the family life they had only shared for the first six years. They came to an accord, an understanding. And respect and friendship began to bloom, although it was not a long time before forty years of self abuse caught up to the father. One heart attack, an odd funeral, a punch-in-the-stomach-painful afternoon spent cleaning out the meager house and five years later, his two younger sons shared the moment that he should have been sharing with them himself.

The groom's brother said, in four words, exactly what the groom needed to hear. He offered what limited encouragement he could, considering it was light years beyond his comfort zone. In those four words he was placing a bookend on that awful Sunday afternoon phone call which started with another four much more ominous words; "Are you sitting down?"

The groom's brother said, in four words, what he needed to say. In that look, in registering the same grief with one of the few people who really shared it, he realized that they both carried the weight of that loss. And although the sting has worn off, the reality is that void will be felt for a long time. When a tree has been uprooted suddenly and violently it leaves a void. Eventually other grass and shrubs will fill the void and will look normal, like no tree ever existed there. But the people who knew the tree was there will always see it as empty. That feeling was in those four words.

The groom's brother patted him on the shoulder, an odd but very generous gesture from a person who is certainly not comfortable in another's personal space. The groom couldn't offer a response. Just a nod and a simple, small sigh and returned to walking down the hall. Any more words would betray the coolness he was trying to play off. Just under the surface some real emotion was just ready to come out. And it was only going to be in tears. And that was not the time or place for tears that day. It wasn't the moment. The groom knew that.

The tears would be shared with the bride, although there were a lot of other people in the room. Those other people never knew those were tears of both joy and sadness, of an incredible sense of blessing and loss felt simultaneously. The groom wanted to get a wink, a nod, something from his father as his bride made the entrance everyone wanted to see.

So, as this first father's day approaches the groom types the one blog entry he knew he would type when he was married.

I miss you, pop.