The Ever-Changing Experience of Father’s Day

I believe my father said the single most revealing thing about his role as a dad as he was reaching out to hold me for the first time.

“Come and see your uncle!”

Several of his siblings had children before he did, he says, and he was used to introducing himself to nieces and nephews. It’s the kind of anecdote that’s easily forgotten about anyone you see regularly but becomes part of a deeper search for meaning if your time together is cut short.

I first held my son the moment he was clean and warm in the delivery room. I was still shaken by fear from a long, difficult delivery and awestruck by the miracle of life. I said he was beautiful and felt the weight of responsibility for another soul for the first time as our eyes met, but I could have just as easily whispered “holy shit.”

Either way, I doubt anyone said “come to Uncle Dad” in a delivery room. It might not have happened at the hospital at all.

Accidental as it was, the tone had been set. For the duration of our time together as a family, my father did his thing, the rest of us — including me, my mom, and eventually, my sister — did ours. He needed to work. He needed to relax. He needed time to himself. If the discussion about it lasted more than a couple of minutes, things got heated. I doubt I would be able…