NOTE: I post this at the same time every year. The reason I repost every year? My story with my father will never change. The two men that were my fathers- biological and by marriage – are both dead. Maybe this Father’s Day you can change your story, as long as they’re alive the story hasn’t been written yet.

Holidays are rough for many people for many reasons. When it comes to specific family “holidays” like Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, or even the up and rising Grandparent’s Day , the celebration can be awkward or painful for many.

When I was young, divorced parents were few and far between among my classmates ( it was the 1970s). I dreaded Father’s Day conversation brought up within my circle of friends. The only saving grace was I never had to endure Father’s Day art projects, cards, or dinners as the holiday falls in the summer.

When I married and started a family the celebration of Father’s Day shifted to my husband and I was more than happy to celebrate his fatherhood. My husband came from a fatherless family and it was a relief to him to have a reason to celebrate.

As I grew older, others my age grieved for the loss of their Fathers as they passed. I did all my grieving as a child so when my father passed my emotions were void and the funeral planning was somewhat methodical.

I admire the younger generations and their definition of family. Families, fathers included, are not defined by a person’s gender, blood DNA, or even location. Instead families are as they should be ; groups of humans who love and care for each other and choose to share their lives with one another. It’s not that I dislike this holiday but rather I dream of a future were my grandchildren and great -grandchildren live in a world where families are chosen out of love and not a definition created by others.