For me Father’s Day is not accurately named.  It should be Children’s Day for without children there would be no fathers.

As a child, I always looked forward to both Mother’s and Father’s days.  My older brother, sister and I would make up signs and hang them up early in the morning so that when Mom and Dad woke up, they’d be surprised.  We also created our own greeting cards.

Those days hold a special place in my heart because it gave us a chance to show our appreciation and love for the best parents any kid could have.

I only had 15 Father’s Days with my dad before he died, but it felt less than that because I was too young to recall the first five or so.

In seeking out photos with my father and me for this column, I was stunned to discover that only two exist.  One was taken at my elementary school promotion ceremony and the other was in our house. 

While we both look nice in the 1970 promotion photo, it is posed.  The way we appear in the candid photo from 1971 when I was 13 years old captures a moment of life.  I’m not sure what my dad was thinking about as he looked past the camera or what I have in my hand (a harmonica?), but the most significant detail shows my affection for my father:  my hand resting on his shoulder.  And, boy, do I wish I had a shoebox full of those photos now.

This year will mark my 26^th Father’s Day.  It is an honor to be a dad which is why this Father’s Day is a tribute not to me but to our sons:  Ben (25) and Max (20).  Without them, this Sunday would just be any Sunday.

For the past two years, my wife and I have been empty nesters since Ben works in Salt Lake City and Max attends college up north.

“Absence makes the heart grow fonder” is an old saying, but there is a reason it has stayed around because it is true.  As much as my wife and I love one another and enjoy each other’s company, not a day goes by when we don’t think of what Ben and Max are doing or recall a cherished moment with them.  When the phone rings and their names appear on the tiny screen, my heart smiles.  I can’t wait to hear their voice.

We still have beds in their former bedrooms.  Each room still has evidence of a child from games to trophies.  Their smiling faces at various stages of life look at us in frames all around the house.

The last Father’s Day I spent with both boys was back in 2022.  Shortly thereafter, Ben moved to his new job.  Max has been with me the past two years because his college finals wrap up before Father’s Day. That’s good because not having any of the boys with me would not be Father’s Day.

Notice that in the photo from 2022 where my hands are this time–hugging my sons.

It has been a pleasure watching them blossom into young men, navigating their own path through life’s highs and lows, still retaining their core values.  It makes me feel good whenever they say or do something that reminds me that they paid attention to how they grew up with my wife and me.  There were times when it didn’t seem they were listening, but they were.

That’s when I think about how lucky I am to have lived this long to see the child to adult transformation, a transition which my father never witnessed with me.

Brian with Max and Ben.

This Father’s Day will be my 24^th one.  I only had 15 Father’s Days with my dad so I’m aware not to take any one of them for granted.  But this Father’s Day will hold extra meaning for this may well be the last one my two sons will be home to celebrate with me in person.  Son Number One leaves in 3 weeks for Salt Lake City, while Son Number Two leaves in 3 months for San Luis Obispo.

As s child, I still recall being super excited to celebrate both Mother’s Day and Father’s Day.  After Christmas and my birthday, those were my two favorite special days of the year because it provided me an opportunity to thank my parents and show them how much I loved them. 

Following in the footsteps of my older brother and sister, we would make our own greeting cards, and decorate the walls with oversized signs before they woke up in the morning.  The highlight of the day, however, was watching them react to our cards, most often tearing up.

We weren’t the type of family who hugged a lot or said “I Love You” so the cards quietly, deeply exuded our feelings.

The greatest gift my parents gave to us three kids was in teaching us to be decent people.  None of us kids ever got involved in serious trouble or drug use or unexpected pregnancies.  To this day, the three of us remain close and much of it has to do with Mom and Dad.

Likewise, all my wife and I wanted in rearing our children was for them to be happy and successful people who contributed positively to society, knowing right from wrong. 

We wanted our kids to be aware of the world’s wonders which is why so many of our family vacations were at national parks. 

We also wanted our kids to have an interest in what was happening in the world so that they would be good citizens.

That’s why I would enthusiastically share with them a newspaper story or a “60 Minutes” segment of compassionate individuals such as the athlete who visited sick children in hospitals without publicity, or of the centenarian lawyer who helped defeat the Nazis and who still gets emotional thinking of the horrors that he saw.

As the days grow short before their departures, is there anything else I can do as a father or words of wisdom to pass on that I overlooked?  Any old movies or songs that I need to play for them before they forever go out of my influence?  One more Sinatra song?  One more Astaire dance?

As each of them embark on a new journey—one to start a career, the other to start college—all my wife and I can do now is be observers.  We had our two decades’ worth of bringing them up; now they are on their own.

Last Father’s Day, we traveled up to Montecito to eat breakfast at a favorite restaurant, an activity I normally abhor due to the crowds.  But we hadn’t done much traveling for the previous two years so we made the nearly two-hour drive north to Lucky’s. 

We asked the waitress to take a photo of us which has now become my desktop’s wallpaper, an image I see each morning I turn on the computer.  And we will make the same venture up north this Father’s Day, and sit at the same exact table as we did last year, and have a new photo to memorialize the day.  Just the four of us.  And always have a memory of how happy our little family was before the little birdies left the nest.