Father's Day

My dad died unexpectedly on May 10, 1990. He was 77 and I was 38. When Father's Day came around a month later, I'd been sober a little over 90 days by then. I was living alone, separated from my soon-to-be-ex-wife and my two stepsons, and miles away from my other family members. Needless to say, I was feeling sorry for myself: poor, poor me.

After picking a fight on the phone with my ex-wife about the Father's Day cards I didn't get, I got around to calling my sponsor, Art D.  He listened patiently as I told my tale of woe and then quietly sympathized with my situation. "I understand how you feel," he said. "You are without your father and without your sons and it's Father's Day."

"But you're probably not the only one feeling that way today, right?" he continued. "So, what if you had gone down to the Alano Club?" he asked. An Alano Club is usually open 24/7; it's where newly-sober people hang out for support.

"Maybe find another dad without his kids or a son who's missing his father -- or just a guy who hadn't eaten yet today and offered to go get a burger with him... how do you think you would have felt then?"

I considered that a while. "I probably would've felt better," I admitted.

"Well, this is an important point," Art said, "So let's remember it: Whenever you feel bad,  instead of finding someone who's got what you need and trying to take it away from them..." he paused. "Instead, you can find someone who needs what you have and you can give it away freely."

He waited a few minutes to let that sink in.

"So, you'll always have a way to feel better," he finished. "And you'll never need anyone else's permission for that."

The postscript is that a year later, at a noon meeting on Father's Day, I was called on so I told this same story to the group. Afterwards, a tired-looking man walked up to me and thanked me for my story. He was missing some teeth. "Have you eaten yet today?" I asked. He said no, so we went down the street to a Burger King.

And for the price of a burger and some fries, I got to hear how much worse my life could've been if I'd simply continued down the road I'd been on.

Many years have gone by since then and my life has gotten immeasurably better. But I've found the world still has many fatherless sons or just folks that are hurting and hoping for someone to listen and care.

So, if you are a son who is missing his father today... or a dad who is missing his kids... I pass along this gift freely to you as it was given to me: I understand how you feel because I've felt that way, too.

The good news is: You now have something you can give away freely. And you never need anyone's permission to feel better.