Every year on Father’s Day we see a WHOLE lot of angry, psycho, and horrible from people on social media who for whatever reason can’t accept that fathers play an important part in our lives and that it’s not the patriarchy to celebrate them for one day. So when we came across this thread (albeit a day late), AFTER we stopped crying, we had to share it with you, dear reader.
It’s really and truly lovely.
His dad gave him a true gift.
Take a look:
One Father's Day, when I was 9, my Dad asked me to hop in the car.
We drove to an elementary school. It was Sunday at 11 am. Inside the gym, cigarette smoke filled the air as three dozen adults milled about.
Confused, he told me to sit.
— Dave Kline (@dklineii) June 19, 2022
Keep going.
He then walked to the front. He was the only one up there.
Were they here to listen to my Dad?
Was this his meeting?My Dad went to a lot of meetings. That is what I thought work was.
He asked for quiet and began to speak.
— Dave Kline (@dklineii) June 19, 2022
Ok, if you haven’t already gotten some tissue we suggest you stop and go get it.
Trust us.
"My name is Dave, and I'm an alcoholic."
What!?!?
Stunned, I learned about a life I didn't know.
Of cases of beer that disappeared and days that did the same.
Of a war we didn't speak of and the birth certificate he forged to join it.
Of parents who showed love with fists.
— Dave Kline (@dklineii) June 19, 2022
When it ended, I watched something else.
A parade. It seemed like each person had to greet my Dad.
He was a celebrity.
I'd learn that in these circles, 10 years sober was quite a miracle.
And miracles inspire.
Sharing was his gift to them. And a burden he gladly wore.
— Dave Kline (@dklineii) June 19, 2022
And miracles inspire.
Sharing was his gift to them. And a burden he gladly wore.
We. Love. That.
But that Father's Day, he gave me a gift.
A gift he had started to wrap a decade earlier.
He was determined that I would not grow up as he had. That my normal would be a safe and sober normal. That his duty as a parent was to be better.
His gift to me was a broken chain.
— Dave Kline (@dklineii) June 19, 2022
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His gift to his son was breaking the cycle, breaking the chain …
Ok, more tissue.
My Dad passed a few years ago.
While he asked for a quiet send-off, 100s of strangers disagreed.
For hours, they shared stories of timely visits, encouraging words, or the occasional kick-in-the-ass.
Many shared a line I heard repeatedly:
Choose your tomorrow but start today.
— Dave Kline (@dklineii) June 19, 2022
We’re not crying, YOU’RE CRYING.
Lovely.
So lovely.
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