"Happy" Father's Day--in Prison?

  "Happy Father's Day!" I heard ringing out, back and forth, Partridge Family style, between guys in the hole during count time this morning. Huh, I thought to myself. What is there to celebrate about being a father? You're in the hole, in prison, and you can't even reach out to your kids. Great fathers. (Eye roll.)

Earlier, on my way to breakfast, someone cheerfully wished me a Happy Father's Day, too. I started to reply like a real Scrooge. After all, my father died a few years ago, and I've been one of the lousiest fathers I know. I'm not even sure I can call myself that any more. 

Knowing this guy and the dozens that would follow are simply trying to inject a little joy into the day, I replied, "Thanks. Same to you." But my heart wasn't in it. My heart was too weighed down with regret to feel any joy. 

God knows I've been accused of being a terrible dad, and I'm not in any position to argue. But being a dad was the best thing that ever happened to me. Yes, I failed miserably at it, but I can never deny that being a dad brought me more joy in life than anything I've ever done. 

Still, I live daily with the complex emotions of regret and nostalgia. I wish I had been a better father. I wish I had been the father I'd always wished I had. I might have felt judgmental towards the deadbeat dads in the hole, but I feel far more judgment towards myself. 

I'll never be able to make up for these lost years, and I'm not sure I could ever earn the title "Dad" again, but I've never lost the pride I had in being a father. 

To all the dads who stayed the course, who were there for their kids when most needed, who have earned the privilege of being called Dad, Happy Father's Day!