make_it_special past "how can we make it special for you? it only happens once a year!" she was eager, needling for specifics he didn't have. the world felt close and closed still, and the specific request only stumped him. he tried to think of how fathers_day was when he was younger, but it felt like a giant absence. his dad was around, especially on weekends, but always distant. a memory twinged, a call back to a rare moment his dad showed emotional honesty. they were at dinner after graduation, and his dad sighed deeply as he said "i never went to one of these before. i didn't go to college or university and i didn't think these ceremonies were important for the other kids, but." his voice caught, "but, i guess i was never really there for any of them. always working or fitting them into baskets i made for them. but it's a real achievement. i wish i didn't miss so much." the moment of reflection didn't last, and his dad fell back to his typical distance the next day. the gulf between unbridgeable. "so," she said interrupting the memory and rambling thoughts, "how can we make it special?" he smiled, slowly, hesitantly. "let's get pizza delivered to the park and just be a family together." 220609 ... raze (the end of this made me tear up. instead of letting the past colour the present, you're building better, stronger footpaths to the future you're making for yourself and your family. that's such a beautiful thing.) 220609 what's it to you? who go blather from