I recently attended a short seminar called "Great Dads". It's purpose was to reach out to fathers or soon to be fathers and show them the importance of their role in their child's life.
We were asked at the very beginning to give a brief synopsis of the role our own fathers played in our lives. 25 men were in attendance and of those 25, 20 of them either didn't have a father or had one that was not a part of their life. Now understanding that unfortunate circumstances take place, some men had lost their dad early in life to death, some to divorce and others just didn't have him around.
The pain in the room, though subtle, was thick. I am not sure if it was just me experiencing it, but it was almost overwhelming.
I have my own set of "daddy issues" stemming from very early on in life. Before my parents divorced at age 8 I don't have many memories of my father. He was always at work, when he came home usually it was very late and I was already in bed or getting ready for bed. Even though this was the case, the day that my Mother drove us away from our home I remember crying hard looking at pictures of my brother, myself and my dad. 8 years old and this memory is as vivid to me now as it was when it happened. I don't blame my Mom or Dad for anything, I understand a little about the status of their relationship and how things became unlivable for the both of them but the haunting memory I have of us driving off the driveway of our home, clutching our photo resonates.
Before the divorce as I said I don't have very vivid memories, I am sure they are there but I have somehow repressed them. When the divorce process had been initiated my Dad did make it a point to spend the weekends with my brother and I. Every Sunday we had brunch and then he would take us to an arcade called the "Power House" and we'd play games together. I don't know how long of a time this went on but in my memories it feels like a year. Those were fond memories for sure.
I remember my Dad coming to visit us after we had moved. We would spend the weekend with him at a hotel room, going out to eat and again visiting more arcades. He would buy us some toys, have them on the beds in the room for when we entered we would run to the bed and see what he bought us. I remember the first few times he came to visit I would cry hard as he left. It got easier as time went by.
During the summer we would go to stay at his house, we'd eat pizza and watch movies. My brother and I would play video games. Dad still worked but not as long as he did before. He'd pay us to scratch his back as we'd watch TV. He would play hide and seek with us and a game that we called "monster" which I now play with my boys, renamed "zombie". We'd be wrestling and he'd fake that he died. We'd try to wake him up and he'd roar at us and chase us around the house. Then he'd disappear and we'd have to find him. This went on and on until we got tired.
Mom and Dad both remarried other people. We weren't initially big fans of our step mother but over time she has become part of our family. My step father became our idol, he was a tough-guy-corn-fed country boy who showed us the out doors and taught us things. He also had a temper and we knew to steer clear when he was upset. He died 3 years after my Mom married him of a massive heart attack. We were staying at my fathers house when we got the news. It was tragic and I can only imagine what my own father thought as he saw us weeping over our step father.
Life went on, we got older and Dad was in and out. Kind of like an uncle, when we spent time together it was fun but as we got older we had our own plans and friends. Our concern was spending time with them and not our parents. Dad was there when I got into trouble at school, that was about it. I don't know what was on his mind when all those things were happening. By this time, he was my Dad but not really. I had already grown up and grown away from him.
Now as a father of 3 boys myself, my Dad is there, he is a fantastic grandfather, but still not much of a Dad. I think he knows this now, I think he tries to make up for the lost time in our youth, but sometimes I think we both know it's too late. He has become an acquaintance, I still love him dearly, but his time as my Dad has passed.
What's unfortunate is that I will never know what it was like to have a Dad as a kid. I don't know sometimes how to be appropriate with my kids. Television dads raised me and I draw a lot of my knowledge from how I would have wanted to be treated.
My story is not unique, in fact it's more common than most men like to admit. My generation and several after me have been raised by our mothers and male role models. Our dads either weren't there or were pursuing lives that didn't involve us. Some became so enveloped in climbing the ladder to success that when they looked down they saw that their families weren't with them. As is my story.
My promise to my sons is that they won't have the same story to tell about me, I am sure they will have some stories to tell both good and bad but what I honestly desire is for them to say "I am who I am because my Dad is this way".
We were asked at the very beginning to give a brief synopsis of the role our own fathers played in our lives. 25 men were in attendance and of those 25, 20 of them either didn't have a father or had one that was not a part of their life. Now understanding that unfortunate circumstances take place, some men had lost their dad early in life to death, some to divorce and others just didn't have him around.
The pain in the room, though subtle, was thick. I am not sure if it was just me experiencing it, but it was almost overwhelming.
I have my own set of "daddy issues" stemming from very early on in life. Before my parents divorced at age 8 I don't have many memories of my father. He was always at work, when he came home usually it was very late and I was already in bed or getting ready for bed. Even though this was the case, the day that my Mother drove us away from our home I remember crying hard looking at pictures of my brother, myself and my dad. 8 years old and this memory is as vivid to me now as it was when it happened. I don't blame my Mom or Dad for anything, I understand a little about the status of their relationship and how things became unlivable for the both of them but the haunting memory I have of us driving off the driveway of our home, clutching our photo resonates.
Before the divorce as I said I don't have very vivid memories, I am sure they are there but I have somehow repressed them. When the divorce process had been initiated my Dad did make it a point to spend the weekends with my brother and I. Every Sunday we had brunch and then he would take us to an arcade called the "Power House" and we'd play games together. I don't know how long of a time this went on but in my memories it feels like a year. Those were fond memories for sure.
I remember my Dad coming to visit us after we had moved. We would spend the weekend with him at a hotel room, going out to eat and again visiting more arcades. He would buy us some toys, have them on the beds in the room for when we entered we would run to the bed and see what he bought us. I remember the first few times he came to visit I would cry hard as he left. It got easier as time went by.
During the summer we would go to stay at his house, we'd eat pizza and watch movies. My brother and I would play video games. Dad still worked but not as long as he did before. He'd pay us to scratch his back as we'd watch TV. He would play hide and seek with us and a game that we called "monster" which I now play with my boys, renamed "zombie". We'd be wrestling and he'd fake that he died. We'd try to wake him up and he'd roar at us and chase us around the house. Then he'd disappear and we'd have to find him. This went on and on until we got tired.
Mom and Dad both remarried other people. We weren't initially big fans of our step mother but over time she has become part of our family. My step father became our idol, he was a tough-guy-corn-fed country boy who showed us the out doors and taught us things. He also had a temper and we knew to steer clear when he was upset. He died 3 years after my Mom married him of a massive heart attack. We were staying at my fathers house when we got the news. It was tragic and I can only imagine what my own father thought as he saw us weeping over our step father.
Life went on, we got older and Dad was in and out. Kind of like an uncle, when we spent time together it was fun but as we got older we had our own plans and friends. Our concern was spending time with them and not our parents. Dad was there when I got into trouble at school, that was about it. I don't know what was on his mind when all those things were happening. By this time, he was my Dad but not really. I had already grown up and grown away from him.
Now as a father of 3 boys myself, my Dad is there, he is a fantastic grandfather, but still not much of a Dad. I think he knows this now, I think he tries to make up for the lost time in our youth, but sometimes I think we both know it's too late. He has become an acquaintance, I still love him dearly, but his time as my Dad has passed.
What's unfortunate is that I will never know what it was like to have a Dad as a kid. I don't know sometimes how to be appropriate with my kids. Television dads raised me and I draw a lot of my knowledge from how I would have wanted to be treated.
My story is not unique, in fact it's more common than most men like to admit. My generation and several after me have been raised by our mothers and male role models. Our dads either weren't there or were pursuing lives that didn't involve us. Some became so enveloped in climbing the ladder to success that when they looked down they saw that their families weren't with them. As is my story.
My promise to my sons is that they won't have the same story to tell about me, I am sure they will have some stories to tell both good and bad but what I honestly desire is for them to say "I am who I am because my Dad is this way".
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