“Don’t take life for granted the love this life gives you; When you get where you’re going don’t forget to turn back around; And help the next one in line, always stay humble and kind.”
Dads are seen as saviors, facing the responsibility of fatherhood before grasping what being a son is like. As dads we try to create peace amidst chaos as we examine our patronage and hope to become better by doing better.
In his book, “Unforgettable,” Scott Simon says “We don’t fully grow up until we lose our parents.” That’s hard to wrap your head around as I realized my father did the best he could with what he had. He was busy and didn’t often turnaround; later sought forgiveness for not living up to the expectations the world had for him as if his best wasn’t good enough.
This commentary on dads centers around happiness. Empirical data from numerous qualitative studies validate fathers want the best for their children, despite what others want you to believe. Doesn’t matter whether it’s a custodial or non-custodial dad; a blended family either through divorce or widowed.
Domestic disagreements might center on a father’s absence or inability to be the protector or provider he was told was his role. Lack of communication might exist, not because dads don’t want to talk, but in many cases we’re Pavlovian mirrors of the models we grew up with. Cliff notes on ‘how to do it’ don’t exist as dads navigate a vacuous path of silence among barbs of dismissive in-laws; experts who in some cases have no children; or wives who thought they were marrying their dads, and are disappointed they were unable to avoid the mistakes their moms made. An unchartered journey trying to make our kids happy campers.
David Blankenhorn discussed an epidemic of absent fathers in his 1994 book “Fatherless America.” I discussed this issue in a males’ only class 15 years ago, until it was publicly editorialized from the classroom. Dr. Ken Canfield, founder of National Center for Fathering, states in his book “Heart of a Father” that over time, most issues between fathers and their children are eventually resolved. In a measured attempt to admit my own misgivings about my parenting skills I told my older son, “I’ve never been a father before,” to which he replied, being a son was new to him. Something this common is a truth rarely shared.
Working on my doctorate I uncovered many universal truths. This big one? Dads don’t share their struggles, particularly with other dads. Father’s Day, I thought is a good time to advocate a turnaround and “help the next one in line;” to reflect not on the fathers or the sons we are, but the people we are. As one of my students put it fathers, though imperfect, unsuspecting, and forgiving, are heroes.
In her book “The Second Sex,” Simon de Beauvoir suggests being in the moment as the best way to be authentic. I encourage dads to give themselves credit and admit: we are okay; not perfect, and make mistakes. Acknowledging our fathers rarely if ever addressed issues central to their identity allows us to write a new chapter in our fathering attempts.
So, this Father’s Day, do something I’ve been doing for a few years now: write letters to your children. If your dad is still alive, begin a new conversation by writing him. Tell him how you feel. Forgive him for his shortcomings. Praise his efforts. Forgive yourself. Talk with other dads. It’s a tall task.
Our voices are important. It’s essential our words are heard so our sons and daughters, and dads know we love them, and are proud of them.
Happy Father’s Day.
“If you stop improving your game, your game stops improving.” ARW
Archie R. Wortham, PhD
Retired Soldier
Professor Emeritus