Our oldest child turned 40 last month which means I’ve been a Dad for that long too. So, let me take a minute to reflect on what four decades of fatherhood has meant.
First of all, a bit about my own fatherhood role model — my Dad. He was an excellent provider, a decent guy to most people he met, but he was often a moody grouch to his family. I vowed to adopt his good traits, discard the ones I disagreed with and in general, be a more even-keeled household influence. I thank him for helping me become the person I am.
Having now told the world that he was a grouch and had other flaws, he wielded more influence over the man I became than I like to admit. He was a career military man which meant that he “retired” after 20 years and was still just in his 30s. I was a teenager and youngest of four kids as I watched him try to evolve from GI to what the rest of his career became. As much as I dwell on his personality shortcomings, navigating that process amongst a house full of teenagers couldn’t have been easy. Again, thanks Dad.
“All that most fathers, and parents, hope is that their children are happy, funny, well-adjusted and have a passion for something in their lives” — Tom Hanks
I can sincerely tell you that all three of our kids maintain healthy levels of happiness, have excellent senses of humor, have adjusted well, and found their own respective passions as they enter middle age. Better than that, I consider all three to be good friends —both of mine and each other.
My wife and I have always felt that we, as parents, could never be happier than our least happy child and that has been the case from their respective youths through just a few years ago. Only lately have we not held that notion because they no longer need us for survival. I’ll help them out when they need it, but they’ve all got the tools, maturity and wherewithal to live their lives and text me the story. Helping out is really all I’ve ever wanted to do.
“Sometimes things work out and sometimes they don’t. But you have to hang in there because 90% of being a Dad is simply showing up” — Jay Pritchett on “Modern Family”
I’ve considered myself to be like the scaffolding of a building or perhaps like the old bicycle that leaned against a tree that the tree grew around it; fatherhood for me meant providing support and structure. The building took shape within the scaffolding and the tree grew up and around the bike. I’m glad to be a part of their lives, but I’m happier to just be a part of the support structure.
I have such mixed feelings toward celebrating Fathers Day.
Most of me feels that there’s nothing wrong with having a day that passive aggressively requires kids to get in touch with their Dads, be quiet so he can get a decent afternoon nap in, or any other small recognition of his presence in their lives. But there is a part of me that smirks at the occasion, particularly in this modern age of blended, fractional, or households that don’t have a “father” in them. Because in the final analysis the kids, particularly my kids, did all the hard work, behaved themselves, invested in themselves and made this parent look good in the process. As the saying goes, they sang the songs, I just played the ukulele.