The Father’s Day We’ve Forgotten
I had a wonderful Mother’s Day this past weekend. All four of my kids were here at home, my daughter made dinner, and I received flowers and a bottle of wine. I didn’t need the flowers and wine, but I do appreciate them. The real gift is having my kids all together around the dinner table. Lately, we are not all around the dinner table. Life is busy, and the kids are coming and going as they work and do other things. So when we can actually sit together and enjoy a meal, it is very special.
Now that Mother’s Day has passed, the stores, of course, have already filled with Father’s Day displays, and advertisements will be running on TV about how dad needs these expensive gadgets, or this fancy tool. Ads seem to suggest that love somehow needs a price tag attached to it.
If you look back through history, Father’s Day used to be much simpler and, in many ways, much more meaningful. Father’s Day didn’t become a national holiday until 1972. During the Great Depression and the World Wars most families simply didn’t have extra money to spend. Fathers worked hard, often long physical hours, and children understood that every penny mattered. There was encouragement to make Father’s Day a holiday, but it didn’t happen until much later.
But when Father’s Day became a national holiday, gifts were modest and practical. A father might receive a new handkerchief, carefully folded and placed in a box. A homemade card. Maybe a favorite pie cooling on the windowsill or a special Sunday dinner after church. Some children polished their father’s work boots until they shone. Others gathered wildflowers for the kitchen table or gifted a treasured family photograph tucked into a wallet.
Father’s Day after the war years
During the Great Depression, struggling stores promoted “father’s day” as a way to sell neckties or a pair of socks.
The older I get, the more I realize that the things families remember most are rarely the expensive moments.
Children laughing as they wash the car with a garden hose.
A father teaching his kids how to fish at a quiet creek.
A backyard barbecue with hot dogs and paper plates.
Coffee shared on the porch before the rest of the house wakes up.
An evening walk after supper, while the sun starts to set.
Families tend to remember the time spent together
Have a backyard barbecue or share some time teaching kids a new skill.
Those are the moments that quietly stay with people forever.
I think many of us feel pressure now to make holidays “big enough.” Social media has a way of making ordinary family life feel small. Constant social media posts about what wonderful gifts someone receives on Mother’s Day or Father’s Day can make people feel like they aren’t living up to what is expected of them. This feeling is similar to a previous post of mine, Don’t Keep Up With the Joneses. But most fathers are not measuring love by the size of the gift bag. In fact, many dads would probably trade an expensive present for an uninterrupted afternoon with their family.
So if money feels tight this year, maybe Father’s Day can become something more intentional.
Cook his favourite homemade meal instead of going to a crowded restaurant.
Pull out old family photo albums and tell stories together.
Make homemade coupons from the kids for movie nights, lawn mowing, breakfast in bed, or helping in the garage.
Pack sandwiches and head to a local park.
Watch a baseball game on television together.
Sit outside after dinner and just talk.
Make Father’s Day intentional
Do something simple but meaningful, like cook a favourite meal, pack a lunch and go to a local park for the afternoon, or watch a baseball game on TV together.
Simple doesn’t mean less.
Some of the warmest memories children carry into adulthood are built on ordinary days that cost almost nothing. I’m always surprised when one of my kids brings up something simple that we did when they were kids. I always felt, in those times, that I wasn’t doing something exciting enough, but they remember those simpler times with appreciation now that they are older.
Households have survived difficult seasons for generations by learning this truth: love does not need to be expensive to be deeply felt. Maybe that’s the kind of Father’s Day many families are quietly longing for again.
A day where Dad feels appreciated.
A day where the family slows down.
A day where everyone remembers that the best parts of life are usually the simplest ones.
On Sunday, June 21, I hope that the father in your life will celebrate simply with his family around him.