Father's Day is one of those weird, greeting card, holidays that have no nostalgic memories attached. My natural father is deceased, the Dad that raised me and my husband barely interupt their routine to acknowledge that it's their day. Pap left for work before dawn as usual and I haven't heard from him since.
Mother's Day, on the other hand, has lots of memories attached. When I was a kid it was the day Ben-Dad made belgiun waffles covered in fruit and whipped cream, drizzled with chocolate and delivered to sister-mom in bed. Poems at Sunday School, hand print pictures and profile drawings cut from black construction paper. My own Mother's Days have been filled with kids plotting and scheming to provide the best presents... gardening equipment, camera's, flowers for the garden... one year the prof. squared came and fixed little things around the house. Mother's Day for me is all the fun of Christmas without the work.