As Father’s Day approaches, I find myself reflecting not only on the origins of this special day, but on the many memories that continue to shape my life decades after my father’s passing.
Father’s Day began as a simple effort to honor fathers and the sacrifices they make for their children. In 1910, Sonora Smart Dodd sought recognition for her father, who had raised six children alone after the death of his wife. More than a century later, Father’s Day remains a time to remember the lessons, values, and moments that fathers leave behind.
For me, Father’s Day is a memory in time.
Growing up in Troy, New York, some of my fondest memories involve spending time with my father at minor league baseball games. The players whose names have long since faded from memory seemed larger than life to a young boy. What I remember most, however, was not the score of the game or the standings in the league. It was sitting beside my father, sharing hot dogs and conversation, and learning that some of life’s greatest pleasures are remarkably simple.
Golf was another shared adventure. Like many fathers and sons, we spent countless hours on the golf course. Yet some of our most memorable moments occurred after the golf had ended. We would wander through the rough and wooded areas searching for lost golf balls. To a young boy, discovering a golf ball hidden in the weeds felt like finding buried treasure. Looking back, I realize that my father was teaching me patience, persistence, and the value of enjoying the journey rather than focusing solely on the destination.
Autumn Sundays belonged to football. We would settle in front of the television to watch the New York Giants. Long before giant screens, instant replays, and endless sports commentary, football was a family event. We cheered together, suffered through losses together, and celebrated victories together. Those afternoons created a bond that remains one of my most cherished memories.
Friday nights often brought another tradition. Together we watched the Friday Night Fights. The sport itself was exciting, but what I remember most was sharing those evenings with my father. The fighters came and went, but the time spent together remains vivid in my memory.
Then there were the weeknights when I was allowed a special privilege: staying up later than I should have on a school night to watch The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson. For a young boy, it felt like being admitted into the adult world. We laughed together at Carson’s monologues and guests, and for an hour I wasn’t simply a child being sent to bed—I was my father’s companion.
As the years pass, I have come to understand that the true gifts fathers give their children are often not material possessions. They are moments. A baseball game. A walk across a golf course. A football game on television. A boxing match on a Friday night. An extra hour before bedtime.
At the time, these moments may seem ordinary. In retrospect, they become priceless.
My father probably never realized that these simple experiences would remain with me for a lifetime. Yet they did. They helped shape who I became and taught me lessons about family, loyalty, perseverance, humor, and the importance of spending time with those we love.
This Father’s Day, I remember my father with gratitude. The years have passed, but the memories endure. They are snapshots frozen in time, reminders of a man who influenced my life in ways both large and small.
And perhaps that is what Father’s Day is truly about—not merely honoring fathers, but appreciating the memories they leave behind, memories that continue to guide us long after they are gone.
Happy Father’s Day.
Take it for what it is…it’s just as I see it.
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