Father's Day came and went much like any other Sunday, and I'm glad. What would seem to promise to be a rough day was actually pretty easy. I suppose that's because I've never been one much for big celebration of any holiday. As Mary can attest, if my birthday passes with little more than a card and maybe a pizza, I'm pretty happy (save for my last birthday, of course, where I got the best present I could ever imagine). Will is such a big part of my life that it doesn't take a special day to make me think about him, or miss him. As Mary has written much more eloquently here, it is strange being a parent without a child; to have that child taken away before you really even had a chance to be a parent. There is a term for a child without a parent, of course, but is there an term opposite from orphan to describe a parent who no longer has a child? Not that I'm aware of, and I think that it's probably because no one word can convey all that it should.

So, while I certainly didn't get the chance to do it for very long, I really enjoyed being a Dad. When I called my own Dad yesterday to wish him a Happy Father's Day, he reminded me that I had been a good Dad for Will. I hope so. The situation made it difficult, but as much as I could, I tried my best to parent the heck out of my little guy.