![A selfie of half my face, with a view behind me of a bridge railing and a river beyond that.](https://andiekbyrd.org/wp-content/uploads/weeks-bridge-225x300.jpg)
The other day I walked here in my father’s footsteps, in one of his favorite places. I hadn’t specifically meant to; I was there for my own reasons, because it’s a treasured part of my life, too.
I watched the rowing teams slide along the glassy surface, and thought of him. Nurn, our weird and wonderful father, who designated himself as the official photographer and snack-bringer for one of those rowing teams when my sister was on it. That meant he woke up in the pre-dawn suburbs to drive in and be a dad not just to her but to all her college-kid teammates whose own proud parents were far away.
As I watched, a stranger strolled towards me with a sweet little doggie. We smiled at each other and I said hello, which turned into a lovely conversation about the silvery-beautiful morning. You couldn’t go *anywhere* with Nurn without him beaming at strangers — his specialty was getting babies to dimple up and grin back at him — and chatting randomly.
I missed him. And at the same time, I felt so close to him. Because in many ways, he’s me.
I am my father’s daughter. My mother’s daughter, too, and that means I’ll get to spend this evening with her and my silly, smart, stubborn, fantastic stepdad – after spending the day with my sister and her husband and their amazing amazing amazing kids, to whom Nurn is a beloved legend.
Many years ago, at Nurn’s mother’s funeral, his sister (my aunt) quoted a saying I’d never heard and have never forgotten. “One day, you put your hand into your sleeve, and your mother’s hand comes out.” We turn into our parents… or perhaps, we recognize that they have been in us all along. I know that’s not always a good thing in everyone’s life. For me, it’s as close to an unmixed blessing as anything in this imperfect world can possibly be.
To all of you who are fathers and all of us who have fathers of any description – by blood or love, present or absent, those who were what fathers should be and those who couldn’t offer what you deserved – may this day bring you joy and comfort in whatever way you need.
Onwards.