I suppose I should. If it were “stepfathers day” I’d have lots to say, because I have one of the funniest, kindest, quirkiest stepdads on the planet. He still kisses my elbow when I walk in the house and sneaks cotton balls in my purse when I’m not looking. (I told you he was quirky) Those cotton balls bring back memories of sneaking in at 3AM trying not to let anyone know I’d just gotten home, only to be caught out when I let out an involuntary scream while turning the covers back on my bed. Under those covers, there would be the carefully laid pattern of cotton balls, placed for maximum possibility of inadvertent contact.
See, I hate cotton balls. There is something about the texture of them that gives me chills down my spine if I even think about them, much less touch them. The idea of picking one up, or inadvertently plunging my finger into the center of one just about sends me into orbit. Call it sensory disconnect, or just weirdness. Because it’s just this side of utterly bizarre, my stepdad thinks it’s funny to tease me with them. It never fails to get a laugh (even from me sometimes), and he also reminds me that it could have been one of my brother’s snakes in that bed instead of cotton balls. The boas, in particular, seemed to love getting out of their nice warm man-made houses and finding their way to the foot of my bed.
With a great stepfather like that, writing about my real father on father’s day would be one of two things: mean-spirited or phony. It makes more sense to remain silent. There is one thing, though. My dad is the one who taught me how to love jazz, and to respect the artistry behind the music. It makes me sad to know that he won’t have an opportunity to see his grandson carry forward the tradition of the music he loves best. Beyond that, the other stories are not ones I care to tell, especially on a day where fathers are celebrated. Flaws and all, I know he loved me as best as he could. He just couldn’t get around himself enough to make it count when it needed to.
So instead of writing, I’ll just wish all dads out there a great day, blow a kiss toward my stepdad’s elbow, and remind the kids to behave.
