Father’s Day is, for me, a mixed time

Yes, I am the proud co-owner of one dad, well-used, battered by time and three daughters, but he has no patience with Hallmark days. On Father’s Day I wish him well and he grunts in reply. Job done.

However, neither of my children has anybody that they call daddy. Briefly, my oldest boy had a “daddy” but he was a fly-by-night father, gone long before the child was three, never heard from again.

As for my youngest, at nineteen he’s never called anyone daddy at all. His father lives a world away, both physically and metaphorically, with a young family of his own, a thrice-a-year phone habit, and a voucher sent at Christmas.

In acknowledgement of the fact that he was, or intended to be, somewhat absent on the dad-front, he chose to be known by his first name before my boy could even talk. It suited everyone, though I wonder if my son felt the pull that I did when we first heard his father’s new daughter calling “Daddy! Daddy!”

And yet have my boys really gone without? Being a dad isn’t simply about the “lad” things like wrestling, hammering, fishing and Lego – turns out I’m pretty damn fine at those! – but is about what I cannot do: I cannot set an example of what a good man should be.

Nonetheless so many decent chaps have taken up that fathering role, be it in passing or for the duration.

First there was my dad, always my dad, who made it his business never to let my guys down. Then there were my male friends; there were teachers, colleagues, coaches, scoutmasters, and their friends’ fathers; there were fleeting kindnesses and long conversations; there were shared interests; there was a help-out, a leg-up, a kind word, a hug. Sometimes it was by accident, sometimes it was by design, sometimes it came from men who were rubbish dads with their own kids yet had enough in them to touch the lives of mine.

Then of course there was Himself, for he has loved my boys harder and better than almost anyone. Yes, fathering is vital, but it doesn’t always come from one person.

So here’s to all those borrowed dads – old, young, gay, straight, childless or not – who’ve been there for my sons.

Happy Fathering Day ...