the narrative thread

  One day when our son was young and after we had celebrated Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, and Grandparents’ Day earlier in the year, he piped up and asked, “When do we have a Kids’ Day?”  It was a good question, one that had no answer back then. So his father and I created a “pop-up” Kid’s Day just for our own kid and would surprise him at various times with some special event or activity on a day designed just for him.

     What with all the official and unofficial holidays on the calendar, there are hardly any days left for new designations, so many end up overlapping thereby losing their identity and celebration. For example, the National Children’s Day in the United States is on the second Sunday in June (declared in 2001 by George W. Bush), which is called a “statutory” or floating holiday, and which this year also fell on a dated holiday, Flag Day (June 14) and, unfortunately, on the Attention Monger-in-Chief’s birthday. So we heard nary a word about children this year, though in truth, every day of the year ought to be about children.

     Father’s Day, another “floating” holiday celebrated on the third Sunday of June, is late this year, falling on June 21. Father’s Day was founded by Sonora Smart Dodd in Spokane, WA, in 1910 to honor her own father, a widower and Civil War veteran who raised six children by himself. But it took 58 years after Woodrow Wilson made Mother’s Day an official US holiday for Father’s Day to finally be declared official by Richard Nixon in 1972. (Note: In other countries, especially Catholic ones in Europe and Latin American, earthly Fathers have been honored for centuries on March 19, the traditional feast of St. Joseph.)

     Poor Father’s Day; it always seems to get short shrift, in spite of the fact that six out of ten adult men in the US are fathers. Gender stereotypes and rigid “trad family” roles were to blame, I think, for the lack of enthusiasm for a day devoted to dads in the last century. Public critics called the proposed holiday a prime example of crass commercialism seeking to capitalize on the economic windfall of Mother’s Day, while other critics  privately held that celebrating fatherhood was a “sentimental attempt to domesticate manliness.” (“Fathers Day 2026”  www.history.com )

     Times change, though often more out of necessity than a true change of heart. Nevertheless, the shift from the old breadwinner—homemaker model began in the 1970s as more women achieved higher education and entered the workforce in professional jobs. The great corporate migration lured younger families away from where they grew up in pursuit of better opportunities and so they were no longer living in familiar surroundings being supported by other family members. My husband and I were among such couples and, frankly, our marriage was probably the stronger for it. Suddenly, we were out there on our own, kept our own counsel, and learned that we had to work as one team, especially once we became parents. The myriad duties and chores of family life depended more on common sense and availability than on gender roles. While those men with fragile masculine egos found such situations threatening, others happily discovered that “Real Men DO Eat Quiche,” and that they also enjoy making it! (Reference to a 1982 satirical best-seller, Real Men Don’t Eat Quiche by Bruce Feirstein.)  

     But alas, male stereotypes persist, even in Father’s Day greeting cards. Of all the roles men undertake, fatherhood is by far the most demanding and most important. Being “a good provider” isn’t enough; a father has to be loving and kind, emotionally present and supportive, and enthusiastically involved in the lives, the activities, and the needs of both his daughters and his sons. Whereas Mother’s Day cards are full of warm wishes and hearts and flowers, most Father’s Day cards continue to rely on the old tropes of type, often with humor, but still reinforcing limited models of manhood: the Grill Master, beer and barbecue in hand; the Sports Fan Addict, at the game or in the barcalounger;  the Obsessive Hobbyist, golf, tennis, fishing, cars; and the Napper, snoring on the couch in front of a blaring TV.   

     My own father died when I was six, so I didn’t have much experience with what a dad should be except through the observation of my friends’ families. It was the 1950s and 60s, and so most of what I saw was a non-working mother and a father who brought home the bacon, but certainly didn’t cook it. I was raised in a matriarchal household by a single mother and an aging grandmother where women did everything, working both inside and outside the home, because they had to.  Consequently, I was raised to be independent, fully competent, and able to handle ALL the responsibilities of adult life (though perhaps not all tasks equally well). 

     My husband, who was also raised by a widowed mother, had the same experience growing up, though he was the older brother and so even shared some childcare responsibilities. Little wonder then that our marriage was never burdened with gender stereotypes and that we raised our son the way we were raised, to be independent and competent. “Real men” can cook more than steaks on a grill, can do laundry and iron shirts while watching the game, can clean the house and do yard work while fixing broken faucets, can set a table and host dinner parties, and can also be a successful professional, a kind and devoted friend, and an actively involved community member. As can “real women.”

     So I honor all dads this Father’s Day and all “real men,” whether they are actually dads or not. Interestingly, the only two father figures I had growing up were both childhood friends of my Mother’s, neither of whom was a dad. One was a married banker and the other was a bachelor book store owner, yet they both looked out for me and my Mom and were ever-present in our lives. 

     The ultimate father figure to me, though, is my own husband. I have had over fifty years to watch, love, and learn what a father truly is to a child, and to witness how the attitudes of true “fatherhood” radiate care, kindness and respect outward to others. Our son is single and not a dad, but he embodies those same traits of “fatherhood” in the extended families he has created. I am a fortunate woman to have spent my life with two real men.