This third Sunday of June, I remember
my friends, like me, who have no father.
Resolution does not grant me the ability to forget.
Another friend has lost her father,
and there are those whose fathers have lost them
Through actions, through words.
What treasure they have lost.
Seeing my friends become great fathers is a wonder I never expected to behold,
so, I remember
friends who want that opportunity still.
And friends who are not dads, but imprint young souls each day
in their work, in their service.
I am struck by my good fortune to know them.
Reading the handwriting of a girl whose number one wish was to see her dad,
still, I remember
I am no longer her.
What treasure has he lost.
I am left
with this idea
that the fatherless,
we will be patched-up,
together.
What treasure we have gained.
