On Being (and Having) a Father
Admittedly, this was not a subject of my own choosing. Rather, I was prompted to it by my stepmother who related to me that my Dad wanted his children (yeah, there’s more than just me out there) to give him a gift of authorship / thought for Father’s Day this year.
As usual, this was converted in my brain to something a bit different. Instead of the usual remembrances, I have chosen to relate how I now see the world as a father myself because, in my mind, a lot of that is relevant to my relationship with my Dad. Of course, I’ll sprinkle in stuff that I learned from my parents along the way. Here goes.
The birth of your own child. There’s no describing it. I can only imagine everyone has the same sense of beyond-description moment when they see their baby born, hear their first cry, hold them for the first time. For those among you who haven’t been there yet, I literally can’t help you here. It’s truly beyond words. I can’t help but think that that feeling is never something that you get accustomed to – 1st, 2nd, 3rd, however many times, I can’t believe that there’s anything but a sense of awe & wonder at those moments – time stands still, your heart flutters and the future is right in front of you. I imagine my father felt the same way because, like me, he’s a softy at heart, too.
Raising a baby. I remember being told (after being puked on, screamed at, peed on, awoken / annoyed by, etc. someone else’s baby) by more people than I can count how “it’s different when it’s your baby.” I always thought that was a crock – I still wouldn’t want to get puked on, etc. I was wrong – turns out when you are a parent that somehow becomes “cute.” Loss of sleep – more time to spend with a baby you know will eventually grow into a fully-formed, independent being too busy living their own lives to stop and think of you – after all, that’s what you trained them to do, right? I can’t say I miss sleeping, but I cherish the early-morning hours spent with my baby while the rest of the house slept. I imagine my father felt the same way – except for the part about him being a ridiculously early riser. Seriously, who but my father WANTS to be up at 5:00 a.m.?
A new beginning. That’s what your baby is; a chance to see the whole world in a new and different way. I’ve written about this before, but I sympathize with parents who have tragedies befall their children in ways I NEVER did before. Most recently an 18 year old girl went missing in a local suburb only to be found days later dead in a creek bed. I thought of those parents – thinking that most of the hard part of raising a kid was past – on to the glory years – college, career, marriage, grandkids – and then someone took their baby from them. And, yes, I think of it that way now, too – your baby is ALWAYS your baby – 1 year old, 16 year old, 25 year old, 50 year old – just your little baby in the crib. Sure you watch them grow, take pride in their accomplishments, have thousands of pictures around your home, office, etc., but they are ALWAYS that baby in your arms at 4:30 a.m. looking at you like you’re their whole world – and you, knowing they’re yours. I think of my father (ok, both my parents) thinking those things and understand now some of the conversations we’ve had – I’m still their baby and they can’t help but betray those thoughts sometimes. That used to really piss me off – now I get it. Live and learn.
So, for Father’s Day, I say to my Dad thanks for all the memories, lessons and love.
Admittedly, this was not a subject of my own choosing. Rather, I was prompted to it by my stepmother who related to me that my Dad wanted his children (yeah, there’s more than just me out there) to give him a gift of authorship / thought for Father’s Day this year.
As usual, this was converted in my brain to something a bit different. Instead of the usual remembrances, I have chosen to relate how I now see the world as a father myself because, in my mind, a lot of that is relevant to my relationship with my Dad. Of course, I’ll sprinkle in stuff that I learned from my parents along the way. Here goes.
The birth of your own child. There’s no describing it. I can only imagine everyone has the same sense of beyond-description moment when they see their baby born, hear their first cry, hold them for the first time. For those among you who haven’t been there yet, I literally can’t help you here. It’s truly beyond words. I can’t help but think that that feeling is never something that you get accustomed to – 1st, 2nd, 3rd, however many times, I can’t believe that there’s anything but a sense of awe & wonder at those moments – time stands still, your heart flutters and the future is right in front of you. I imagine my father felt the same way because, like me, he’s a softy at heart, too.
Raising a baby. I remember being told (after being puked on, screamed at, peed on, awoken / annoyed by, etc. someone else’s baby) by more people than I can count how “it’s different when it’s your baby.” I always thought that was a crock – I still wouldn’t want to get puked on, etc. I was wrong – turns out when you are a parent that somehow becomes “cute.” Loss of sleep – more time to spend with a baby you know will eventually grow into a fully-formed, independent being too busy living their own lives to stop and think of you – after all, that’s what you trained them to do, right? I can’t say I miss sleeping, but I cherish the early-morning hours spent with my baby while the rest of the house slept. I imagine my father felt the same way – except for the part about him being a ridiculously early riser. Seriously, who but my father WANTS to be up at 5:00 a.m.?
A new beginning. That’s what your baby is; a chance to see the whole world in a new and different way. I’ve written about this before, but I sympathize with parents who have tragedies befall their children in ways I NEVER did before. Most recently an 18 year old girl went missing in a local suburb only to be found days later dead in a creek bed. I thought of those parents – thinking that most of the hard part of raising a kid was past – on to the glory years – college, career, marriage, grandkids – and then someone took their baby from them. And, yes, I think of it that way now, too – your baby is ALWAYS your baby – 1 year old, 16 year old, 25 year old, 50 year old – just your little baby in the crib. Sure you watch them grow, take pride in their accomplishments, have thousands of pictures around your home, office, etc., but they are ALWAYS that baby in your arms at 4:30 a.m. looking at you like you’re their whole world – and you, knowing they’re yours. I think of my father (ok, both my parents) thinking those things and understand now some of the conversations we’ve had – I’m still their baby and they can’t help but betray those thoughts sometimes. That used to really piss me off – now I get it. Live and learn.
So, for Father’s Day, I say to my Dad thanks for all the memories, lessons and love.
posted by Bob at 6:09 PM
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