My father died when I was 13 from a massive heart attack. Growing up in Messina NY in farm country to immigrant parents from Italy was rough for him. He spend a lot of his childhood seeing the country by riding the freight trains, I think to get away. His home life was less than ideal, to say the least. Grandpa was a violent nasty man, that today, would be in jail for child abuse and wife beating.

My Dad tried to do better. He did. Of course compared to what he went through that is not saying much. Still there was no Dr. Phil, Dr Spock or anything like that. Food on the table, a roof over the head and plenty of trips to the Jersey shore was all a kid needed, aside from the occasional beating interspersed with the more frequent cuff without explanation (kid gotta figure it out on their own you know).

Point is, anyone can be a father by making a baby. So if my 8^th grade educated, barely literate father can stick around for his family, anyone can.

Happy father’s day!