Hey, Friends! I originally was going to talk about my beef with Crumbl or how a rabbit played me in the street, but it seemed weird not to make a post at least somewhat related to Father’s Day, so here we are.
“You know Father Time, we all know Mother Nature” —Lil Wayne
Many years ago, my stepdad preached one of my favorite sermons of his. His topic was fulfilling the dash, which in essence questioned you to think about how you are living your life in between the space of your birth and death. Being a masterful overthinker, this is something I continue to think about every two to three business days.
“Now life has killed the dream I dreamed”— Les Miserables
One of the first khutbahs I heard around the time I converted to Islam talked about the age of 40. The imam dropped lots of jewels, but I specifically remember him saying that at 40, most of us have more life behind us than ahead of us. Heavy. Since I turned 40, my health is acting like it’s trying to singlehandedly get a reboot of House going, and I am not a willing participant. Forty seemed like elder status when I was younger. Now, I still feel like I’m cosplaying at being an adult in some areas (hence my occasional need to find adultier adults).
Things I have come to realize (from my relationships with my dad, stepdad, father-in-law & from watching my husband father our children):
It’s the collective ways in which a father shows up that help to shape our identities.
In a lot of ways, how I am able to show up as a mother is partly due to how my husband shows up as a father and how my heart was handled by the fathers of my life.
If Father’s Day is rough for you, especially if you’ve lost your father to this world or to the next world, here are my suggestions:
1- Reflect on all the amazing things you have accomplished. You deserve to celebrate how you are fulfilling the dash.
2- Surround yourself with love. Channel your inner Captain America and assemble with those whose hearts you protect and who protect yours.
Friends, all I’m saying is that I don’t want you to end up feeling like a dream deferred (Thanks, Langston Hughes.) if you weren’t fathered in a way that you think you should’ve been. And if that’s your lived experience, I am sorry and hope you have found a path towards healing. But if you are blessed to have a father as a part of your adult life right now, I encourage you to learn all you can, laugh a little more, and cherish each day to its fullest.
Let’s see where the conversation takes us. Leave a comment here or on one of my social media channels: Facebook, Instagram, X, BlueSky, or LinkedIn.
Until next Sunday…
-Ash