Third Sunday In June

Another picture perfect Sunday, on the outside, the aftermath of much needed rain, barely visible.

Pictures are not always what the seem.

On this third Sunday in June, designated "Father's Day" I've spent barely a moment thinking about my dad and even less about their dad. My son, daughter, and I were all here together for a good part of this day and that, in and of, itself, is cause for celebration. We had a handful of meaningful conversations that led to a handful of revelations.


Catharsis, or catharses comes to mind. Each has spent part of this day ruminating over focus and dedication toward the next stages of their respective days, weeks, months, and quite possibly, years.

I've spent a considerable amount of time today in my own state of rumination as my own life has taken some turns and is about to turn again. For better or worse, time will tell. For this day, however, and the couple leading to it? far from the bike ride in the park of the most carefree of summer days.

My present may very well become my past but it could also become my future. I was shown a picture of myself today and though I disagreed with the accompanying hypothesis, I can relate to and respect the sentiment presented.  

I read this quote somewhere, don't recall where and didn't take note of the author, so forgive the lack of credit, "Let your past make you better, not bitter." I feel like that quote has been the cornerstone of my entire existence.

This third Sunday in June, this Father's Day, turned out to be grand mother of days, existentially speaking.