This morning, few things felt as appealing as going back to bed, pulling the duvet over my head and staying there until it became Monday.
I was not looking forward to today nor expecting it to be in any way celebratory.
We all got up, we all got ready and we all went to church. We saw friends, we listened to Phil Stoddart talk about his experience since the night two of his daughters died in an accident (which was not as hard going as it could have been or as hard going as being there in the first place.)
We then had a family lunch and spent time together. It the light of my last post this was none too uplifting either.
Two years ago I nearly lost my wife, last year we baptised family, this year we did lose family.
For me, Fathers Day holds little to celebrate (baptisms aside) and for now, I'm looking forward to Monday (if you can believe it.)
I hope, and pray, that one day Fathers Day will be redeemed for me. One day it will; just not this day.