Forgotten Fathers

I remember the way that he looked that night. I'd never seen it before.

I'll never forget the pain in his eyes- the hurt-

He couldn't speak that night.

His only words were our son's name.
And then silence.

For hours-

No sound.

Silence.

Silence and tears.

I remember having made the phone calls that night- to our friends our family- he had no voice.

He was grieving that night for our son- a son who was given the name he dreamed of- a son who was supposed to be here.

But he was also grieving for his wife. Someone he loved so much- and someone he saw hurting and he knew that despite his best efforts- everything he had- there was nothing he could do- nothing he could say to help.

He felt helpless.

He lost his breath.

He was broken.

But he was the 'man'-

He was the strength.

Men don't cry.

Men don't hurt.
Do they?

And as the days passed, weeks, months, years- People have asked me how I was doing- how I was feeling- but so often he was forgotten. I have seen people ask him about me. But not about him. Was he forgotten? Not supposed to grieve? Not in need of the comfort I had received?

He was the man.

He was the strength.

We talked about him sometimes. But only us. He didn't talk about him with others.

But he wrote about him.

He visited his garden alone.

His guitar played for him.

He grieved.

Forgotten.

When five years later we lost our baby- I saw it again. We pulled over- he couldn't drive- gripped again by that sudden loss of control- again- he couldn't fix things- not this. I remember watching him slump- and cry and I hadn't seen that. Not in five years.

He hides it.

He's a man.

He's so very strong.

He's my husband.

He's the love of my life.

He's the father of my children.

My best friend.

But he's also been forgotten.

Perhaps he prefers it that way- to fade in the background- keep his hurts hidden- keep them guarded- safe. Safe like he has kept his family.

My husband is forgotten.

But I remember. I remember his strength.

The strength that has gotten me through my darkest days- when I didn't think I would- or could- he got me through. He held me. He listened. He carried me. He is the only person who knows exactly what we went through that night. He is the person who held my hand when we learned we had children-

Children in heaven.

I remember him today. And I know that he has children in heaven who are so proud of who their father is. And I am so very proud. Proud of him.

His love.

They feel it still because he remembers. He remembers them.

Thank you my love for being so strong.

And when the weight has brought you to your knees sometimes I wonder if you want to be forgotten or if you'd want someone to ask you... Want me to ask you...

I haven't asked enough.

Been there enough.

For you.
Perhaps I will ask today.

Father's Day.

Happy Father's Day- to the Fathers who have gotten us through- been our strength- carried us.

Happy Father's Day to the Forgotten Fathers.

I remember.

and thank you.