Fathers Day

Fathers Day was never spent buying ties or fishing reels. We had a computer with stacks of connected green-tinted computer paper that rolled out into the printer. With an archaic design program I printed: HAPPY FATHERS DAY on a banner, stuck it to the wall with masking tape and held my breath.

Laurie was my 'father'. Today even, I call her on Fathers Day (and sometimes Mothers Day) to tell her I love her. Although my father lived just thirty minutes away, I knew deep down inside he had four boys of his own, and a new family to celebrate his day with.

My father is a short woman with bleached blonde hair who stands about 5'3" tall. She is stalky and round. She is rough and her knuckles are hard and wrinkled with age. She plays music loud in my childhood home. She is an exquisite cook but works in dive restaurants around the city. She has an onry smile and a vicious tickle. She smokes Player cigarettes in succession, at night kicks her high-top Vans atop the couch arm and watches Americas Funniest Videos. On my special days, she pulls me into her and tells me, "I love you Chelsia-bugs."

This year my cell phone was disconnected and my bank account extinguished. I wonder if she knows that I have no way to call and tell her that I still love her, no matter what. She is tucked away far above the United States on a Canadian prarie. I called my biological father, told him how happy I was that our relationship seemed to get better with the years and that its a pleasure to have him in my life. I called my step-father and we talked about motorcycle rides in the country and a visit soon. But I didn't get to call the father that comes to mind first, the lady who spent my most formative years as my other parent.

Laurie. Although you may not read this, you've been on my mind. The banner was strung high in my mind for you Sunday and I was caught up in memory about our family. Our road may be long and trecherous but my love for you has never seized. Thank you. You've taught me so many things about life. On the fine edge of pain and exhileration, I can honestly say: I love you.

Happy fathers day.