#Hashbrowns

My father died 15 years ago.

In the time since then, my mother went from holding an unused BA in Anthropology to a Master of Nursing and teaches at Washington University’s nursing school. My sister has become a professional who helps graduate students complete their work. My brother has become a modest success as a musician. My grandparents’ health has slowly failed, bit by bit, but they are still quite alive and good for it.

I’ve lost friends, and gained others, seen people grow and relationships blossom. The people who mean things to me are, for better or worse, mostly healthy, vibrant, and taking life as it comes, and I’d like to think I’m keeping pace. Family, however we define it, is all we’ve got. And my family, here in St. Louis and Columbia, and extending out in Diaspora to Kansas City and Camdenton and North Carolina and Texas and New York and Florida and anywhere else you can name, is what I still hold very dear.

For me, Father’s Day offers little occasion for gift giving or family outings. It instead gives me occasion to think back to my Bar Mitzvah, one of the last times I can remember my father being able to attend a big, public event. I think back to that day, that declaration that “Today, I am a man,” and I consider if he would approve of the man I am today, of the family I surround myself with, and the ethical choices I make.

I think he would. I love you all.

Happy Father’s Day, family of friends.