Fathering Fathers

I’ve always had my father in my life. Say what you will, since everyone has their faults, he has been a constant presence and 80% of parenting is simply being there. So it’s difficult to imagine how I’d feel if he’d walked out on our family or not been in the picture in the first place. I can’t imagine the profoundness of my sadness or how that might evolve into anger or how that anger might transform into outright rage or hate.

Too many of us don’t know how to be fathers because we’ve never had a real father or have never seen the importance of a real father due to the absence of one in our lives. I love my two boys and I plan on raising them to be the type of men they ought to be, and one of the conversations I have started to have with them (even though they are only in kindergarten and first grade) is that I’m not raising another generation. There will be no misunderstandings on this point: if they consider themselves grown enough to have sex, they will be grown enough for the responsibilities that come along with it.

They will be raising that child. I’m not the automatic babysitter and I’m definitely not going to be giving up my weekends so that they can continue to rip and run as if they don’t have a care in the world. I have done my time. And guess what? They aren’t going to dump all of the work of taking care of the child on the women they got pregnant. They will be a part of that child’s life if I have any say in the matter.

I have been blessed to not only have my biological father in my life, but also other men who have been models of what true fathers should be. I think I had underestimated how much he has shaped and formed my life. I also realized the great debt that I owe them for the man that I’ve become and how much I love him. We should all be so lucky to have such fathers.


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Will Someone Explain ...

My fascination with all things Hoff?

My new INtake column is up, obviously on a topic that has been on my mind for a while now. Big shout out to my new brother-in-law, a great example of what it means “To be a man.”


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Holding My Son’s Hand

I imagine it will be tough to let go of my kids (my countdown clock aside). To get to that stage where I stop worrying, to stop thinking of them as my kid and let them be the adults they are one day supposed to be.

I’ve been thinking a lot about fathers and sons.

Every day I pick my oldest son up from school (which I like better because I kept forgetting him at the bus stop when the bus used to drop him off). Every day we hold hands when we leave, as he waves good-bye to friends, as we cross the road getting to our car.

I tell him that I like holding his hand and that one day he’ll consider himself to be too big. One day he won’t let me hold his hand in public, he won’t let me stroke his hair when he’s resting, he won’t let me be seen with him in public because I’ll be embarrassing (to which he said “I know” and little too quickly). Actually, his younger brother already is done: at 4, he’s “too big” to hold my hand.

Yep, my oldest is only in kindergarten, but I’m going to miss holding his hand.

Like most parents, I worry about what kind of men they are going to be and how best to train them to be the kind of men they ought to be. When I think about my own father, I think about how easy it is for children to point to the faults of their parents. We’re human, a smorgasbord of failings, but we try the best we can. However, my father was at least there for us and he loved us as best he could. So I’m reminded by the simple power of presence. Of being there to listen and talk to my children and I worry a little less about possibly screwing them up, despite my worst antics, because being there is most of the battle. Holding their hands when I’m able and when they’ll let me.

So I’m going to miss holding my son’s hand. Probably as much as my dad misses holding mine.

Today’s his birthday. Happy birthday, dad.


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If you want to make sure that I see your comment or just want to stop by and say hi, feel free to do so on my message board. I apologize in advance for some of my regulars.