Mamma was a single parent since I was two and daddy went boar hunting with some good-old-boys from the Oglethorpe Club, a bottle of Johnny Walker Red and never lived to tell the tale.
Over the years Mamma escalated from conservative lawyer who named her one and only child Reagan, to Judge Guillotine-Gloria, feared by lawyers and criminals. So you can see that my first-hand accounts of the day are limited.
But then I got thinking… Dads come in all shapes and sizes and varieties into our lives not just of the biological sort. I have Auntie KiKi and Uncle Putter who now live next door to me all my life lived just around the block.
Their house wasn’t just my auntie and uncle’s house, you see, their house was the house I’d grown up in as much as my own.
With mama being a working single parent and KiKi and Putter having no children I was pretty much joint property. I knew which steps in their place creaked, which windows stuck and which toilet handle needed a good shake to flush.
I was sort of joint custody between Mamma and Auntie KiKi and Uncle Putter and Uncle Putter was my dad in many ways. He had the patience of a saint when teaching me how to drive a car, the good judgment to tell me not to marry Hollis Beaumont the Third…though I did anyway, and the Zen of Buda in times of crisis.
So my question to you on this amazing Father’s Day is do you have a second dad in your life? A teacher who helped you along? An uncle like my Uncle Putter?
Have a wonderful Father’s Day and remember all those special guys in your life who have been there for you.
Hugs, Reagan Summerside