Father’s Day can be difficult for so many people. Please know that you are not alone.
Happy Father’s Day, folks!
I am the luckiest dad in the world and am so blessed to watch my son, Teddy, grow up into the man he is now.
Father’s Day has always been bittersweet for me. My dad lost a desperate, prolonged battle with cancer, and died when I was just eight years old.
It was an interesting childhood to say the least. Losing my dad made me shy and insecure, and it was hard for me to make friends. In the third grade, I was the one everyone teased.
But my mom always said, “You can’t control what life throws at you, but you can control how you respond.” And my dad would always add, “As long as you laugh at something, it can never beat you.”
As time went on, I slowly gained confidence and began making friends. My dad was big into baseball, so I naturally fell in love with the sport.
When I couldn’t hit a curveball, I spent two winters learning to throw one — hundreds and hundreds of hours practice-pitching to my best friend Harry. I never quit. I finally made the varsity team my senior year of high school and had several key wins to help us take the championship.
Somehow I passed my dad’s love of sports, and my intense competitive nature, onto my own son.
Everything I do today, I do in my dad and Teddy’s honor. All I wanted in life was for my dad to be proud of me — and now I am so proud of my own son.
Happy Father’s Day. I miss you, Dad.
I love you, Teddy.
— John
