The Following Entry was written by Buzz from Buzzstuff:

Dear-Dad,-Father,-Pop,-Pa,-Daddy

Dear Bob,

Hi. How’s it going? Long time, eh? Let’s see, at last count, it was approximately 28 years. Wow! Time really flies when you’re having….well, time just really flies, I suppose.

I guess I should catch you up on the goings on in my life. Ok, here we go. Since I last spoke to you I have had several different jobs, none of much import, married a very nice girl, played in a church softball league, had a son, got divorced from that very nice girl, met another very nice girl, married into her family of three, and started up a saltwater aquarium. Yeah, that’s pretty much it in a nutshell. And while they say the devil’s in the details, I see no need to go into them here.

I have wondered, of course, what you have done. What jobs have you held? What music do you like? Are you happy? Have you ever brutally killed anyone? I wonder these things about you not because you are my father so much, but more as I wonder these things about a lot of people that I have lost contact with. I feel a little guilty that I don’t wonder more about you but hey, whatever.

Oh, and speaking of guilt, let’s chat that up a bit, shall we? After you and Mom got divorced, I think that the traditional thing to do would have been to feel like it was somehow all my fault. I never did. I always felt like it was the fault of you two. And now, after going through a divorce of my own, with three kids involved, I think I probably got that one right.

I did, however, think for a while that you not keeping in touch with me was my fault. I guess that’s natural, wouldn’t you say? Then, for a while, I thought it was all your fault. But now that I’m grown, I think that maybe it wasn’t anyone’s fault as much as it was just what happened. Do you know what I mean? No fault to dish out, it’s just the way you are. And, sadly, it’s just the way I am too. Two people inflicted with a major case of ‘outta sight, outta mind’. We were doomed from the start. If you’re anything like me, and I have a sneaking suspicion that you are, the way that you feel about this situation now is

Oh well.

And that’s really the only source of guilt that I have. I feel a little guilty that I don’t feel, well, guilty. Here, let me be clear. I’m not mad at you. I never was. I don’t dislike you. In fact, I think you’re probably a swell guy. I mean, look at me, after all. With a kid like me, you can’t be all bad, right? No, I hold no grudges or feelings of ill will against you at all. What I feel mostly is just

Oh well.

So another Father’s Day approaches and my thoughts, naturally, make their way to you and I think of the things that I know we share. Sense of humor, blue eyes, short attention span, dazzling good looks, love of Diana Ross (but only when she was with the Supremes!). And I think of my three boys and how you have helped me to decide that I will not share your sense of fatherhood. You have helped me to decide that I will always keep in touch with them. I will always respect their decisions (well, almost always) and I will forgive them their trespasses. They deserve at least that.

And as for you, Bob Bubba Robert Dad, I wish you health, happiness, love and wealth beyond your wildest dreams. I don’t think that we will ever need to get together and talk things out but I really do wish you well.

Happy Father’s Day.

Your son,

David.