HAPPY FATHER'S DAY...

Yep, father's day has been and gone for another year. And I assume a lot of father's received the obligatory socks and jocks...chocolates....power tools and strange BBQ tools....and those cards filled with glitter and smudged handprints.

They all scream Father's Day.

Some would have been lucky enough to be chauffeured for the day. Taken to wineries and eateries....


surrounded by those that love them. A day spent with family.

Some fathers living further afield would have received that phone call...that Happy Father's day....how are you....I love you call.

Some dads would have heard nothing. Sad fact. Those dads no longer with us would have been remembered, toasted with a glass or two.

And some dads are fantastic. Some dads, not biological dads, but love them like they are my own flesh and blood, be there for them no matter what dads, nurse their ills and spills, growl and discipline when needed, hugs anytime dads..... (very proud of my son for being one of these dads)


Then I thought of father's in books. 

The first I think of is Atticus Finch in To Kill a Mocking Bird by Harper Lee.   
Strong, wise....struggling as a single father...but there for his children. Let's face it, who growing up didn't want Gregory Peck aka Atticus Finch as their father? 

The next father/child realationship that comes to mind is in The Road by Cormac McCarthy. Neither the father nor the son have names but that relationship is strong and so visual. He would, and does, do anything for his child. 

Marcus Zusak's The Book Thief has another strong father figure. Hans is Liesel's kind of adopted father but is a father no less. 

These three novels quickly came to mind when I thought of fathers...and then I faltered.....

Most novels do feature men---sleazy, not to be trusted, adventurous, risk taking, drunk, abusive, sweet, pompous, boring, evil, kind, dangerous, instructive, supportive, drugged, go to work then return at night, pin striped, jeans and t-shirted, pot bellied, hair slicked back, reliable, wasted.....the list goes on and on.



Interestingly I want to look back at my work, see where I have placed fathers in my stories and poems. I don't think I have really considered this before. 
Do I use them? 
Are they shadowy props? 
I know I have written a poem for my father...

PJ

You taught me how to bait a hook
that bees drunk on fermenting nectarines
tickle your palm
to enjoy reading aloud
and to become as one with the earth.

You taught me to drive a three on a tree
column shift baby blue Holden station wagon
to enjoy a good port
that rules are to be obeyed
and which ones can be broken.

You taught me that grief is ok
to believe in love
that quietly spoken
doesn'’t mean
having nothing to say.


Do you write about fathers? 

Vicki 







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