Father's Day
I started working on this comic as a Christmas gift for dad in December. We knew this would be his last Christmas with us. What kind of gift do you give someone for their last Christmas when they live in constant pain and have their senses dulled by medication? It was the worst.
Dad and I had a lot of spiritual conversations together during his last months. The Lord’s Prayer became increasingly important to him. I am not entirely sure why. But I thought I would make this. He liked when I drew things that he related to. But as I finished the top three panels and the bottom three panels, I realized that what I was making was a sort of eulogy for dad.
The power lines representing the thousands and thousands of miles he traveled for his work. He worked construction all over the state, but he refused to stay in hotels and apartments away from home. So for years, he would drive three hours to the job site, work all day, and drive three hours home. Years.
The bottom three panels came next. Throughout my childhood he built docks. Really good docks. Like the only docks that survived the “storm of the century” that hit Cedar Key in the early 90s. He was really proud of these.
But as I drew the dock and started adding the grass, I just cried. I didn’t want to finish the drawing. I didn’t want to give it to him. I didn’t want to give him a “going away present.” It felt wrong. So I left it.
He died in March.
Now it is Father’s Day. The first one without him. It’s damn sad. I miss him. And I hate how his absence has affected my mom. And I hate feeling so powerless. And meaningless. And blank.
But I can draw. I can make things. Dad used his hands to make all kinds of cool stuff. Stuff I could never make. Now he is gone. So I will use my hands to make all kinds of cool stuff. Stuff he could never make.
So I drew the middle panels, highlighting some of the things he used to make cool stuff with.
I don’t think this would’ve made a very nice Christmas present. But I think it makes a good Father’s Day gift.
Love you, dad.