Oops, I almost missed Father’s Day yesterday but was saved by the 12 hour advantage so I could still ring my Dad and wish him well. Here in New Zealand Father’s Day is celebrated on the 1st Sunday in September so I was not reminded by the usual commercial fanfare. Realising my close call, it got me thinking whether the origins of Father’s Day.
Apparently, Sonora Smart Dodd first proposed a fathers day to honour her father William Smart in 1909. Mrs Smart died in 1889 during childbirth and he was left as a single parent to raise his five children. Sonora was inspired when listening to a Mothers’ Day sermon and wanted to let her father know how special he was and celebrate his strength and selflessness as a single parent. This idea spread across the US and was promoted in Government until finally in 1966 the 3rd Sunday of June was declared as Fathers Day. William Smart’s birthday was in June, hence the significance of the date, but this doesn’t explain why the kiwis have nominated the 1st Sunday in September!
I bet you didn’t know that the red or white rose is the official flower for Father’s Day. You wear a white rose to honour a father who has died and a red rose for a father who is living. Father’s Day is also used to honour all men who act as a father figure – stepfathers, uncles, grandfathers and adult male friends.
Interesting as this might be, I think honouring one’s parents goes back much further to the Ten Commandments. “Honor thy father and thy mother: that thy days may be long upon the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee. (Exodus 20:12)â€. Not being a regular churchgoer or a theologian I don’t think it’s my place to explore the true relevance and significance of this but if you’re interested, I googled the following http://atheism.about.com/od/tencommandments/a/commandment05.htm
which might be of passing interest to you.
It’s been nice to think about all those men in my life who have acted as a father figure. I never really knew my Pop Wheeler (my maternal granddad); he died when I was very young. But, from photographs he looks like a jolly sort of chap and I admire anyone who can sport tummy hugging swim shorts and swim each day in an outdoor pool come whatever the weather.
I have such fond memories of my Grandad Fleming. I used to spend half term holidays with him and my Nan from Boarding School and also stay with them en route to Dubai and school each year. I slept on a sofa bed in their living room and watch TV late into the night – Horse of the Year Show and the Sweenie were my favourites. I’d trail after him every day to the Ridley Road market and Mare Street in Dalston, East London to do the daily shop which took ages on account of him stopping to talk to all his mates on the market. He was a cheerful soul who used to whistle whilst he worked and was famous for his exercise book accounts and knowing all the prices of things in the shops. Hmm, come to think of it, I think there is some similarity with my own Dad on the retail price indices.
The Fleming and Wheeler clans have never really had strong family ties so as far as uncles go, I’ve had a few but apart from my Uncle Bill they’ve now all died or got lost in the distance. But, being adopted by the Treanor clan, they’ve made up for that in spades.
I only knew Grandad Treanor for a short while but he was a gentle man who I loved to visit. He’s responsible for Martin’s lifelong support for Coventry Football Club so he’s never far away in spirit. Grandad Sam (Darlaston) is charming and witty who is never short of a tip for perfecting vegetable growing or if you want advice on which horse to place a bet (came in very handy when I was at Ascot for a corporate do once!). I could go on with a roll call but I won’t – only to say that for entertainment value Uncles Jeff and John should be honoured!
The only other man who I would consider as a father figure was Mr Coleman, my friend Ruth’s father who I admired greatly as I spent increasing weekends and holidays with Ruth from school on their Church Stretton Farm. One of the many defining memories of time spent with Mr Coleman were the walks at the crack of dawn to collect mushrooms from the fields which we promptly came back and cooked for breakfast. Now I think about it, perhaps it was the time spent with Ruth at Womerton (http://www.womerton-farm.co.uk/ ) that sparked this long time yearning to be a farmer myself.
As a novice domestic executive diary keeping is something I’ll need to work hard on. Although technically my Dad and father-in-law should benefit from two Father’s Days celebrations each year, I’d like to think that they know how much they are loved and cherished 365 days of the year. Ahhh!