Remember the North Country’s missing fathers

I just spent two weeks away from my son Nicholas.  Wimpy as it sounds, I was miserable almost from day one.

It’s not that I spend all my time being a dad, obviously.  But in the 14 years that my son has been around he’s definitely become sort of my pivot point, the main compass reference to most days.

Over the years, I’ve talked to a lot of fathers who for one reason or another can’t be with their children.

Some are separated by divorce and by the wreckage of relationships with their former wives.

Others are supporting their families by working away from home.

The Jamaican apple pickers in the Champlain Valley.  Migrant dairy workers in the St. Lawrence Valley.  Eastern Europeans working in the resorts and restaurants of the Adirondacks.

These men send remittances home every month, sustaining and providing new opportunities for children they may only see at long intervals.

There are also a lot of North Country men who are cut loose from their kids for long stretches.

I’m thinking in particular of the soldiers serving repeated tours in Iraq and Afghanistan.  Imagine the toll of days and years missed, of milestones unmarked except via telephone and email.

And also the corrections officers who have to put in long years of service in downstate prisons before winning reassignment back in our part of the state.

And then there are the thousands of inmates housed here in our prisons, guys whose mistakes, lack of education, and (yes) downright criminality have led them into exile.

A lot of them are dads, too.  I’ve spoken with inmates about the ache and sense of helplessness they feel as their children grow up and away while their dads sit behind bars.

After my brief stint away from Nicholas, I know just a taste of that dislocation, the sense of a piece being missing from every day.

It’s a nagging sense that however hard you’re working for your family, there’s always some important responsibility, some vital act of care and joy, going unfinished.

I have the great blessed fortune to be home again on this Father’s Day.   So I’ll send my best wishes out to the dads who, for whatever reason, can’t be.

Safe travels to all of you — and come home soon.