Category Archives: Fathers Day

Only Three of Us Are Lucky Enough… Father’s Day 2017



The older I get and the more people I encounter in my life, the more I understand that I am one of the lucky ones. Not everyone enjoys a terrific relationship with their father for reasons of all kinds and I am sorry for those who do not.

But I am blessed enough to have had a great father and I will speak for my two sisters here: we were blessed to have Dad as our dad.

Whatever I try to be as a father, I learned from how my father fathered me. When I think of the memories I would like my children to have of me when they are adults parenting kids on their own, I want them to have memories similar to the ones I have of my dad.

  • Walking across the campus of my college alma mater, Catholic University, last week, I said to The Cinnamon Girl “That’s where the bank was where I opened my first adult account. Dad and I did that one afternoon my first week on campus.” He was taking care of me as he ever did.
  • Just yesterday, the hashtag #FirstComics was making the electronic rounds and I tweeted a picture of the first comic books in my collection (comics which are framed on the wall of my office). Dad bought them for me.
  • I think of dad each time I strap on my twelve string guitar. It has a hole in it that dad fixed.
  • We bought a new car in the spring and the impulse to check in with dad on what he thought was so very strong. He always had car advice even if it was not always good advice.
  • When my mother-in-law passed away last week, one of the first thoughts I had was how would Dad respond? What would Dad do?

I could share many more memories but I will conclude with this: I love my father. I always will.

I am one of the lucky three who can call him my dad.

Family 1989

Me, my sisters, our mother and father in London in 1989. Lucky family to have Dad as our dad…

 

 

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Filed under Cinnamon Girl, Family, Fathers and Daughters, Fathers and Sons, Fathers Day, The Cinnamon Girl

Link’n’Blogs – 6.16.17 – Fictional Fathers


Related Content from And There Came A Day


I loved Lincoln Logs when I was a kid. Though I never entertained the idea that I would be a designer, engineer or architect, something about putting together these wooden and plastic pieces was simply simple fun. Connecting to ideas through the blogosphere seems similar to this pursuit, hence the title of this weekly post. Each Friday, I intend to post something interesting I’ve read out there on the internets. Hopefully others will find these posts as thought provoking as I have.

Father’s Day is this weekend. Who are you favorite fathers in fiction? I found a list that’s pretty solid, non-comic-book-y and inclusive of my personal favorite literary character of all time (and, no, it’s NOT To Kill a Mockingbird‘s Atticus Finch, though he’s up there!)… Click the photo!

Atticus Finch

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Filed under Family, Fathers and Daughters, Fathers and Sons, Fathers Day, Literature

Remembering Dad on Father’s Day



We ought not need special days to remember our dads, right? But it’s nice to have this one every year nonetheless. I’ve written of my father before and I will again. I’ve talked about the man he was, the man I perceive he made me, and the man I miss to this day. I’ve written of his humor and his passion, his love and his life. I’ve written of what he meant to others and what he still means to me.

 

On this Father’s Day, 2016, I am aware of something I’ve rarely considered: not everyone feels about their father the same way I do. Not everyone had a dad who, though not perfect, cared about him, loved him, support him and made his life possible. Not everyone had a dad who connected with him, advised him and taught him how to be a man.

Not everyone is as lucky as I am.

In my father, I was very lucky, indeed.

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Filed under Dad, Fathers and Daughters, Fathers and Sons, Fathers Day

My Dad And My Guitar


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My dad was addicted (in a good way) to sharing his talents. Perhaps addicted is not the best word. Rather, I should write compelled. He was compelled to assist. Compelled to help. He shared himself with people he barely knew, with people he’s just met, with people he knew well, with people at church and, more importantly, with his family.

Dad and MeI’ve written accounts of Dad doing this many times before.

This is not one of those stories.

This is the story of the 12-string guitar I purchased for myself almost 10 years ago now, right after I got divorced. I don’t know what made me want a 12-string or why I thought I could handle such an instrument then – I really can’t all that well almost a decade later – but I got it in my head that I wanted it, I got it from amazon (naturally) and got right to playing it when it arrived at the door of my condo one afternoon.

It was a “Stellar” brand guitar, not a “Stella” brand, meaning it is a rip off, but that was okay. Post-divorce, the fact that it was a knock off is why I could afford it. It was cheap.

The guitar had a very nice sound and, because it was a 12-string, it made me sound like I knew more about playing than I actually did. It also had a built-in pickup meaning it didn’t need to be mic’ed, just plugged into a sound system or amp. That was also very cool.

One day at church – during a mass at which my dad, a deacon, was on the altar – I dropped the guitar and the instrument cable which was plugged into the pickup rammed its way into the guitar itself. The wood on the base of the guitar splintered and popped and the input mechanism (about 3 inches wide and three inches deep) ended up inside the guitar floating loosely, jostled from its mounting by the force of the drop.

The Stellar was trashed. That’s what I thought.

Stellar.

Dad told me to bring it home to my parents’ house after mass and asked me if I wanted him to try to fix it.

I was skeptical. I’d seen him fix many-a-thing before. I’d even been pressed into service to help him. A light switch, he could fix. An underground sprinkler? Sure. My guitar?

“It’s broken now. What are you going to do? Use it as firewood?” He said.

Good point.

We unstrung the guitar and he got out his tools and his glasses, the ones he had that lit up at the temples so he could shine light on whatever he was working on. He grabbed a drill and pulled out a round rubber disc from somewhere in his toolbox, a circle the size of a half-dollar and about an eighth of an inch thick. And he got to work.

Of course you know where this story is going. Dad fixed the guitar and I still play it today. He fixed it with skill I didn’t possess and with confidence I didn’t have. He remounted the pickup, drilled a new hole for the instrument cable input and patched the splintered hole in the side of the guitar with the rubber disc.

The rubber disc... you can still see the crack from the guitar's fall.

The rubber disc… you can still see the crack from the guitar’s fall.

I think of Dad every time open the case, strap on the guitar and plug an instrument cable in. The guitar has become a physical reminder of Dad’s presence in my life.

Today marks four years since Dad died. Four years really fly by, don’t they? Moment-by-moment, time may seem to be ticking quite slowly, but when you hit a day such as one like this – a day where a flag has been forever planted – there’s a cold-water splash in the face about just how quickly time moves on.

In recent days, I’ve been talking with family and friends about Dad as my parents’ anniversary was last week (it was their 50th) and I’ve said more than once “I think about him every day”.

And I don’t just think about what he would have said (although I hear his voice in my head quite often) or what he would have done (although, every time I am confronted with a household task or a car issue, he’s very much around), I am reminded of Dad by what he did say or things he did do.

Like the simple act of fixing my guitar.

I can’t imagine all the other things he fixed in his lifetime. I can imagine how much better the world is that he shared himself with it.

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Filed under Anecdote, Dad, Family, Fathers and Sons, Fathers Day, Guitar

My Parents’ Anniversary – August 7, 1965

When my father passed away almost four years ago, I was humbled to deliver his eulogy. In those comments, words that can never sum up who he was, I mentioned something I found important: my dad and mom had lived a love story.

Today marks the 50th anniversary of their marriage and it’s a time to celebrate their journey together – some of the blessings of which are in me and my sisters, our spouses and our children, to celebrate the testament of their lives together and, finally, to celebrate their love.

True love never dies,

It only gets stronger with time…

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Filed under Anecdote, Anniversary, Dad, Family, Fathers Day, Mom, Mothers

The Word “Father”

I’ve been called many things, “Mr,” “husband,” “friend,” “teacher,” and more… but the best thing I’ve ever been called is “father.”

I couldn’t be more proud of HJ jr, Stretch and Sous Chef. No matter how many years pass, no matter where they go, no matter what I am doing in my life, the best thing I can ever hope to be is their father.

2013-07-13 09.35.20

Sous Chef, HJ jr and Stretch look out over Central Park.

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Filed under Family, Fathers and Daughters, Fathers and Sons, Fathers Day, Holidays

COUNTDOWN TO STAR WARS EPISODE SEVEN – 180 DAYS

star-wars-force-awakens

Counting down the 180 days until The Force Awakens on December 18, 2015.

In the days leading up to Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens, And There Came A Day will present links, images, videos, art, memories, laughs, theories and thoughts leading up to the big day… which happens to be on my birthday!  ENJOY and may the Force be with you, always… or at least until 12.18.15!

I AM YOUR FATHER

Happy Star Wars Fathers Day to all the dads out there!

Leia and Vader luke and Darth

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Filed under daily Star Wars Countdown, Family, Fathers and Daughters, Fathers and Sons, Fathers Day, Holidays, Star Wars, Star Wars Countdown, Star Wars: Episode VII: The Force Awakens, The Force Awakens