June
19, 2017
Greetings from
the acolyte,
I did not
actually go through any formal education to become a father. As far as I know there is no Dad College. (I noticed this because I took them to win in
March Madness and it wrecked my bracket.)
Like most
people, my training for parenthood took place on the job. There was no manual to study, no on-line quiz
to prep with. We built the plane as it
was taking off. While this seems
reckless and irresponsible from my perspective today, it is the model that has
been handed down since Adam said to Eve: “I thought you were watching them.”
Of course I
had the assistance of other fathers to guide me. Because there are no formal guidelines or
universal syllabus, this kind of support is at best confusing and at worst appealing.
If I followed
the advice of other fathers I would spare the cold, feed a rod, spoil a fever
and starve the child.
Over a long
period of time I met a few fathers I admired and attempted to emulate or to
follow their advice. They seemed wise
and patient and kind and encouraging, which I knew must be strengths since those
were characteristics I lacked.
Lack.
To be honest,
I have done some studying on being a father.
A few years back someone gave me a book:
“101 Secrets A Good Dad Knows.”
Of which there were just over 100 I did not know. To be fair, if everyone knew them they would
not be secrets.
It is natural
to be a father and to wonder if you have had any impact on your children’s
development. Anyone faced with such
awesome responsibility will wonder how he could have done better. Anyone with my experience will wonder if I
should have subcontracted the job.
Yesterday I
went to the cemetery where we mark the memory of my father, and of my son. I was drawn there on Father’s Day, a natural
place, it seemed, where I could acknowledge my role as son and as father.
I meant to ask
them a question but knew the answer was going to have to come from somewhere
else.
A couple weeks
ago we celebrated my 60th birthday, and my kids created a small book
entitled ‘60 Reasons Why We Love You’.
At first glance I thought it was an ambitious title. I am so grateful they were able to fill the
pages. It would be impossible to have a
favorite, but among those most gratifying was: ‘For instilling in us a passion
and curiosity about life.’
I read it this
morning and I felt the beginning of the answer there. What I’ve discovered is that now my children
are teaching me what a good father is.
Here is the
truth; prepare all you can to be a father, but in the end your children will
guide you through the process. They will
tell you what is needed, they will show you what is best for them. They will give you the advice that makes the
most sense for raising your children.
The critical part is to be present and pay attention, and then with all
your heart give what gifts you have.
I won’t
pretend that I got all of the lessons as they were given to me, but I see now
that some of them sunk in. We are
nothing if not a work in progress.
Yesterday I
talked to all my kids and every one of them was a pleasure. They are smart and caring and curious and
passionate. They lead interesting and
challenging lives and look at horizons that excite them. I will never know fully what I contributed to
their course in the world, but I am thrilled to be among the witnesses.
I stood in the
cemetery in between these two important bookends in my life and wondered to
them if I had lived up to my potential as a father. The answer came to me in the cool hour before
the sunrise. I already knew that being a
father is a lifetime commitment, and so built into that is a lifetime of
education. And potential.
From Brene
Brown: “I'm an engaged,
imperfect parent and a passionate researcher. I'm an experienced mapmaker and a
stumbling traveler. Like many of you, parenting is by far my boldest and most
daring adventure.”
Hope
this finds you trying your best,
David
Copyright
© 2017 David Smith
No comments:
Post a Comment