By Cynthia Bond Hopson, Ph.D.
Nashville, Tenn. (TN Tribune)-Father’s Day 2023 will be tough and there’s no way to keep it from being. My father, John, and my great-uncle/dad, Carey, have been gone long enough to make me smile when they come to mind but not send me into a blubbering
mess. My children and grandchildren, however, will have their first without
Roger Anthony Hopson, their Dad and Poppy.
His death in October feels like yesterday and on a given day I do pretty well
until the wrong song comes on the radio, or these darned holidays roll around.
My beloved Uncle Carey died in 1997, right before Father’s Day, and I
remember going to the Hallmark store and having to leave empty-handed
because every aisle, door, and window loudly reminded me that my hero was
gone.
My father, John, was a giant of a man—all heart and full of love and life
lessons—died in September 2004 so by Father’s Day, I wasn’t as raw. This
year, though, is different. We made it through Roger’s birthday Thanksgiving
Day, we muddled through Christmas, and now here we are. Trying to fill the
hole he left is like trying to tip-toe over the Grand Canyon.
He so enjoyed being a father, a daddy, a provider, protector, cheerleader,
hero—and he took those roles seriously 24/7. Every time we gathered, I heard
stories and antics about his sixth sense with Marcos and Angela and how he
always got the truth out of them no matter how well-crafted the lie was going
to be. He would’ve made a great detective because he didn’t trust, and he
always verified.
For years I thought we were on the same page with punishment until I
discovered about six years ago that instead of spanking our children, they
created an elaborate performance of him hitting the bed and them screaming
and fake crying with me none the wiser. Nevertheless, I took great pride in
knowing that the spankings I offered were real.
He loved taking care of us, so I was surprised when he announced that he was
not going to be one of those grandparents who made everybody endure tons
of pictures and countless stories about our cute and smart grandchildren. I
made no such promises, so I just laughed when he passed a baby picture of
our now 16-year-old Maya and remarked “Isn’t that the prettiest baby you’ve ever seen?”
He never sang to our children, but he sang to the grandbabies,
hosted tea parties, baked Easy Bake oven cookies, and found a way to weave
them in almost every sermon.
Yes, Sunday will be tough, but the wisdom and faith of our fathers will endure:
(1) Everybody’s not your friend. Choose carefully and cherish true ones for
the treasure they are. (2) Be careful with your reputation. My dad would
remind me that he was a little boy once and boys talk, so don’t be the topic of
conversation. (3) Have your own money so you don’t have to “stand around
with your hand out.” (4) The truth will always stand—it doesn’t have to be
propped up or recreated every time. (5) Trust God in everything—little
things, big things–all things. (6) Have and use your own stuff. Finally, (7) T -H-
I- N-K. Think for yourself, consider all the options, and choose the best one
from the information you have.
Here’s a salute to fathers, grandfathers, uncles, cousins, mentors, and mothers
who give us their all every time: THANK YOU for your love and care.
Be blessed and Happy Juneteenth.
