My dad died a little more than two years ago, suddenly, of a heart attack. He was 60, and not in perfect health, but I was under the impression it was improving.
It was a serious shock. My world was turned upside down. I have lost people before, breakups, deaths, sudden shocks—but I’ve never experienced anything like this before. My world unraveled, my sanity unraveled. Grief has been a fascinating process. I have been writing constantly about it, though I’ve only been publishing about 10% of it.
It has changed everything, to lose my dad (and then my partner), and I’m still getting back on my feet.
This is the third father’s day without him. It’s different—being a Daddy in the leather-kink way to this boy whose adoration and devotion I strive every day to deserve, and to whom I offer my adoration and devotion too—it means I think about Father’s Day in a dirty intimate way that is completely different from my own relationship. And yet, when the words are the same, how different are they really? But they are. And they’re related. Maybe they come from the same wound, somehow, or from the same deep need, from the same crevasse filled with diamonds that can slowly be excavated with the right tools. I’m just poeting here, I don’t really know.
As someone who always had a decent if somewhat complicated relationship with my family-of-origin genetically-related dad, Father’s Day was only a moment to call him, say hey, talk about the latest TV sitcom or how his business was going. But now that I’ve got this other relationship to the day, I am feeling into all of you out there who are fatherless kids, who are unfathered or under-fathered, who are fathers or daddies or papas or poppys yourselves, who have that masculine paternalism to whomever or from whomever in your life. It’s more complicated than the Father’s Day of my first 32 years would have told me. I
I was hoping to write up a gift guide for butch daddy presents, but honestly, my feelings are in the way of any masculine accessory thing. You can always check out Butch Basix for inspiration, and search for belt buckles, cuff links, cigar holders, dopp kits, collar stays, or ties at Etsy, and I bet you’ll come up with a thing or two.
Pro Etsy tip: if your butch daddy has some particular love of birds or Texas or motorcycles, put in “cufflinks+motorcycles” or “birds+belt buckles” and get something really rad. If all else fails, add “customize” to any of those and get something with their initials.
I’m actually in Phoenix this weekend, at a leather boy retreat, so I’m curious to see what will come up around Father’s Day for me in the next few days. I’ll be over here, writing. I hope your brunch is epic and your love is radiant.
Here’s a couple things to read for your Father’s Day weekend:
- My Father’s Son, a poem about my relationship with my dad
- Cornea (My Father’s Eyes), a poem about what my dad being an organ donor and what happened after his death
PS: I love you, boy.
My dad passed away nearly eight years ago, and now Father’s Day and I have a weird relationship. It usually sneaks up on me. I’ll get a little sad and I’ll miss my dad a little more, but really what lasts is a feeling of being different. That this is another separation from the general world.
On the other hand, every time I’ve had a daddy, I’ve had a strict “no Father’s Day shenanigans” policy. The day feels ordinary and sacred.
I’m so sorry that you lost your dad. Every grief journey is different, but my heart goes out to you none the less.
I’m late, just now reading this, but it’s touching. I’m sorry for your loss, I remember when it happened and it still feels really raw to me – it hit me in a way that I didn’t expect, being about the same age as you and expecting my dad to be around for much, much longer, it hit close to home how quickly he could be gone from my life and how much I needed to heal those wounds. As fate would have it, a ‘daddy’ figured entered my life around the same time and the space he has given me for healing and trusting again has been awe inspiring and life changing. hugs to you, even if they are late.