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My Mother Was My Father

Father’s Day. You celebrate your dad, papi, papa, papá, dad, whatever you want to call “him.” And those of us who are dads are celebrated for being great fathers.

I have to confess that as much as I want to be a great father to my children, I often don’t feel up to the task.

I try to teach my son and daughter how to ride their bikes, swing a bat, catch an air ball, jump a fence, stand up to bullies, do math tricks, be kind to people, not scream or yell and try to figure things out with patience. But sometimes, I suck at it.

I yell at them while trying to teach them things. I get impatient with them. My mind wanders off when I’m with them… The list is long.

Read the full article on Huffington Post.

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The Father My Mother Was to Me was last modified: by

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