Happy Father’s Day.
I’ve been thinking about fathers, the responsibilities involved and the joys and heartaches quite a bit lately. The reasons behind that focus don’t really matter, although you likely will find a few clues as we go along.
I hope you indulge me as I ruminate.
I was blessed to have my father alive and with me well into my own adulthood, and I lived under his roof until I was – at least technically – an adult. We were close until he died some 15 years ago.
That makes me very lucky, I know. Far too many children grow up without fathers in their lives – that was true back in my childhood days almost as much as it is today.
Heck, my own son Alex was on that list for much of his childhood. I was what is called a Disneyland Dad from the time he was a toddler. I would be with him some weekends, some holidays, the occasional summer vacation (that’s where the Disneyland Dad designation came from). He even stayed with me one summer so he could play baseball.
I’m pleased to say I was able to remain a part of his life as he grew up. Definitely not a constant presence, but we lived close enough to each other for frequent visits until he started high school.
It wasn’t enough. Sure, I taught him how to throw a curve ball, and we watched the first Star Wars movie together when it came out.
But I wasn’t there to help him with his homework, or to have that father-son talk when he started noticing that girls were something different. Alex had a great mom who raised him well – but there’s just something about having a dad to turn to that makes a difference.
I was lucky to have a bit of a second chance when I married the lovely Maria in 2000. Two of her children, Charlotte and John, were still school age, and I became their stepfather.
To be brutally honest, I don’t think I was very good at it. I tried, but it didn’t really take very well, at least while they were in school.
These days, I think Charlotte and Aimee, the oldest daughter, consider me a father, or at least a father figure. John and I … we talk when the occasion arises.
It really is a different thing to be the father of adult children. There’s this fine line you have to walk between wanting to help and knowing that they want to do it themselves. I’ve sort of settled into a “be there when I’m needed but don’t stick my nose in” approach.
That’s really, really hard when you think one of your kids is making a mistake. Providing advice and guidance is what you want to do – you did that when they were growing up, right? – but doing that is likely to just push them away, especially if they are determined to follow their own path.
Then there’s that whole “the sins of the father are visited on the son” thing. What have I done? How can I get him to not do the same thing?
But enough whining about how hard it is to be a dad. How about how great it is to be a dad?
It is such a joy to watch your child succeed. It doesn’t have to be winning a medal at the state track meet – how about just finishing that 800 meter run? Better – watching your child reach out to help someone else, like you hope you taught them.
There’s another joy that comes more often when you get close to my age. Walking a daughter down the aisle (and actually being able to pay for the wedding). Watching your son hold your grandchild, making him a father too.
It literally warms my heart to be able to make a grandchild smile; to watch them experience something for the first time, just like I watched their father or mother do. And that glow in the now-parent’s eyes as they watch the same thing is worth more than a pot full of gold.
I’ll bet you have a father or a father figure in your life. I pray that your relationship with him is a good one – yes, there are bad fathers offering bad examples, but I hope they are the minority.
I believe that we all have one Father watching over us. We call him God.
(Can we leave the whole gender identity thing alone for now? Give me that for Father’s Day, please.)
He cares for us – I know He has cared for me. His gift is amazing, and is given freely.
I know I’ll never measure up to Him when it comes to parenting, but it sure is nice to have that example to turn to when times are rough – and to celebrate with when times are good.
I hope you find a father to thank this Sunday. You don’t have to give them a tie or a pair of socks – a hug will do. Or how about this?
Thank you, father, for all you have done for me.
Happy Father’s Day.