A Father's Day

 

    I remember doing my job to help people in the hospital. I noticed a father holding her daughter dearly in his arms, ran to the receptionist, and asked to see a doctor. The worry in his eyes, and the desperation in his tone, would have softened the hardest rock, let alone my miserable heart. Anyone who saw that, aside from me, tried their best to help his daughter, who had a problem breathing. The whizzing sound and the discolorations on her face were all we needed to understand his needs. 

    A nurse came and expedited the process of seeing a doctor.

    What struck me at that moment was that not five minutes ago, I was thinking about why society are so dismissive about the role of the father and why they are being ridiculed at every corner. The media, the judicial system, and the whole society—like a gang of tugs with maces—are attacking them. They gave them a day and told them to be happy that we named a day for them, which is all they got. However, I realized that those fathers didn't care about Father's Day either. In their eyes, every day was Father's Day to them; instead of being appreciated, they appreciate the moments when they are around those that they love profoundly.