As children, he took us to the store and said, "buy your momma something nice." It was our introduction to Mother's Day.
If you were told do a task such as shovel the snow or take out the weekly trash, you knew you were in trouble since that was your responsibility every week. We learned how to be responsible, sometimes with the assistance of a firm hand.
As children, when we'd go with our mother to the doctor's office, we'd quietly play. Once, an observing stranger asked how she kept us so well-behaved and my mother replied, "that's what I expect of them."
I was blessed to have two fathers, a biological one who made me possible and a second who taught me how to survive. To all of those men who sacrifice for children and family: happy Father's Day.
To the others: happy Baby Daddy Day. There is a difference.
Ken Jackson is the editor of Urban CNY and a weekly columnist for The Eagle. Reach him at firstname.lastname@example.org.