My father has two children and very strong hands. He built a sand box for me in the back yard and when I had dug all the worms out and wore all the sand castles out, he then added on a swing. My dad had time every nite after super to push me on the swing. I would say "make it go higher, dad” which turned to inevitably, "not that high, dad”. My dad built the house I grew up in, too.

When I wrecked my first car one winter, my dad showed up and was so scared that all he could do was yell and be angry. I flipped that farm truck on the ice and crushed the entire cab in … it must have been scary for him to see. My dad and I bought another cab, sanded it down to bare metal, bondo-ed the thin spots, sanded and primered and painted and painted it candy apple red and put the whole damn thing back together ... together.

He also taught me how to roof. Most girls don't know that word can be a verb.

Today, as I sat down at the New Mexican cafe, I wished I was in Michigan cooking up dad's favorite omelet and bringing it to him on a tray with a napkin, a carnation and a smile before he even got out of bed. But I'm a long ways away from Michigan in Santa Fe, and decided to trust that my mom would feed dad properly in my absence and the best thing I could do would be to nourish myself too.

So I and my friend (another father with strong hands and two children) chose a table in the Body Cafe in Santa Fe, across from the outdoor patio where not a soul sat – diners preferring the air conditioned and aromatic indoor accoutrements to the hot rot iron arid desert seating – even it there were umbrellas for shade.

Though the Sun did still stretch its furnace fingers through window panes all the way to our table, something about the Body Cafe in Santa Fe felt moist - even aquatic. Perhaps it was the spa on premises, with blue massage rooms, shower tiles and wall paintings. Or perhaps the moisture came from the vast yoga studio with mirrors, sprung bamboo floors, and natural light. Maybe it was a kitchen that prepared 90% organic, plant-based recipes of which my date and I enjoyed the mushroom-potent raw lasagna, high-vibration raw Pad Thai with water-rich zucchini noodles, or our favorite: a mountain of crisp greens topped with light-bright agave/mustard dressing. We fed each other with chop sticks and lived vicariously through the others’ enjoyment of each bite.

Maybe the Body Cafe's perceived moistness, in the harsh high desert climate, was the feeling of abundance all of these things combined evoked. I felt like I had enough of everything to spare. In fact, I felt like an inexhaustible fountain of pure emotion and creative intent and I gazed at this man sitting next to me and put my hand on his face. His face - distinguished with lines from a life well lived. Eyes somehow open and clear after a lifetime of heavy experience. A touch - a hand on my thigh - expressing comfort with my body as well as his own. And I said to him, this dad also a million miles away from his daughter and son whom reside with their mother - I said to him, "happy father's day".

And I knew...

I knew that there are a lot of fathers out there who need to know that they are doing a good job. They want their children to express appreciation before children even know how to appreciate, so that they feel that they are being good fathers even when they get only every other weekend and holidays. I thanked him then for being a father because the truth is, I saw him once go to his napping 12 year old son and hold his hand on his son's heart. I knew that boy was lucky to have a dad like this man, even if he can't push him on the swing set after super every nite.

You know, my father and mother love each other deeply, and that means my dad got the chance to build me a house to live in, be at all my basketball games and get omlets brought to him in bed. Whether he is a bad guy or a good guy, a child's father is her sole concept of maleness and every man in her life from all until eternity will be a version of or against that role model. My dad is a good dad because he is a good man. He insisted on happiness and love in his life. Every man I will ever know will be compared to that image of maleness. Thank you, dad. That is the most important thing you could have done for me.

So today, to all the men who understand, instead of wishing you a happy father’s day, I wish you a happy fathers’ day. Being happy and in love is the most important thing you can let's us see you doing.

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