A Call for Son's Day

In America we revere Father's Day on the 3rd Sunday in June where we declare our love for our dads and put a quarter in the way back machine.


It all started a year before my dad was born.


It started in Washington state in 1910.


Many baby boomers like myself have lived through difficult relationships with their dads. Their pops didn't like their habits, hair length, language, music attitude or lifestyle and views.


In return, we stopped liking dad.


If you want to read more, check out GIFT TO MY DAD. You can order via Amazon and get it in time to share with dad for this Father's Day.


But I am not writing about Father's Day.


This is a father writing about a new holiday I propose.


Let's call it Son's Day.


I trace the inspiration to my own son and the place he has arrived in my life.


It hasn't always been a smooth ride.


For the first 15 years of his life, we were more like brothers, playing sports night and day.


One year we had no furniture and played indoor soccer and basketball in a haunted and empty home and were never happier.


At least it was the way I remember it.


Then my roller coaster and peripatetic life took another left turn and over time our memories of what happened took divergent views.


We even missed a Father's Day after we both held on to our egos and lost sight of the fact that we were father and son.


Which brings us to today.


This year my son dropped by for a visit.


But that wasn't his purpose.


He had scheduled a makeover.


If didn't begin with a hosing like Sylvester Stone in First Blood.


It did include the barber shop, new clothes fro an old man and a bottle of cologne to trigger the way back machine.


After my granddaughter's graduation celebration to enter middle school, dinner served as dessert.


I realize it was something I had never done for my own father.


The man who I trashed in Gift to My Dad might have liked a day like this. And he deserved one. All dads do.


It takes a big man to be a magnanimous as my son was on this day.


So I got to thinking.
He deserved a special day.


Let's call it Son's Day.


I recall the conversation I had with the salesperson in Macy's when my son was purchasing the scent reminded him and me of days gone by.


What kind of son do I have I boasted.


She shrugged her shoulders as she put a quarter in her own way back machine.


Nothing that my son would ever do, she regretted.


And nothing that unfortunately I was ever to do for my own father.


Yes, I have a special son.


And he should have his own special day.


Because every dad should be blessed to have a son like mine in his life and blessed I am.


His birthday happens to be July 10.


He just happens to share that date with his grandfather, my dad.


So how about Son's Day as the 2nd Sunday in July?


Do you have an opening on your calendar?


Is there a place available in your heart?


I know there is one in mine.


And Scott--


Happy Son's Day.


You make me proud to be your dad!