No tears here.

Well, we made it through our first [not really having a] Father's Day.

I was worried. I mean, how could I not be?
Father's Day. There you have it- an entire day dedicated to someone whose presence is no longer in your life. I didn't know what to expect.

Would he ask for his father?
Would he make him something in school to take to him?
Would he feel left out in conversations amongst his tiny friends?

So I fretted. Because if there is something I am excellent at, It's fretting. I could worry your face off, and then obsess over that. Then obsess that I was obsessing. And fret over that obsession that I may be obsessing too much. I know you understand.

WELL. I shouldn't have worried.
Because my son is a bold 35 lbs. of solidarity and transitioned through the hallmark holiday without so much a discontented peep, the slight angel.

In fact, I was shocked on Friday when he brought home his 'Father's day' gift that he had made in school. Because you see, I had debated on whether to inform his new summer teacher of the divorce and his father's absence. I had wanted to suggest that perhaps she go extra-easy on him this week and allow him to create a gift for his 'Pappy' rather than his father.
But then I fretted.
Because I didn't want him to feel different than any of his friends or be embarrassed that he was making a gift for someone other than his father. So I let it slide, convincing myself that Brae could handle this.

When I saw what he had made, I smiled. It was a story, 'All about my ________', and where the word 'Dad' should have been, it was replaced with 'Pappy'. He made the decision. He chose to make a gift for the most important man in his life, his grandfather.

My son has it together, does he not? Its amazing what a toddler can pick up on and re-adjust to accommodate.