Happy Fathers Day to all. Fond memories and difficult ones alike mix on this day where we recognize the men who gave us life. Expectations of brilliant performances often fall short of the hopes we had. As well, our own children might clearly see where we have fallen short.
Atticus Finch
Very few of us get to draw the Atticus Finch card. Harper Lee’s tribute to him was perfect when she wrote; “Atticus Finch fought the good fight. And that, regardless of outcomes, merits enduring respect. What more can we expect from our fathers?”
I was one of the fortunate ones. My Dad was patient but firm and I made it my mission to avoid disappointing him. He loved playing cards with me and my friends when we were teenagers and college kids, always taking us for every dime in the poker pot. I could go on and on. But lots of kids have deep wounds and resentments kept alive by issues of abandonment, abuse, neglect and a myriad of other trauma throughout their lives.
“My friend, this body offers to carry us for nothing - as the ocean carries logs.
So on some days the body wails with its great energy;
it smashes up the boulders,
lifting small crabs, that flow around the sides.
Someone knocks on the door.
We do not have time to dress.
He wants us to go with him through the blowing and rainy streets,
to the dark house.
We will go there, the body says,
and there find the father whom we have never met,
who wandered out in a snowstorm the night we were born,
and who then lost his memory,
and has lived since longing for his child,
whom he saw only once...
while he worked as a shoemaker,
as a cattle herder in Australia,
as a restaurant cook who painted at night.
When you light the lamp you will see him.
he sits there behind the door....
the eyebrows so heavy,
the forehead so light....
lonely in his whole body,
waiting for you.”
I wanted nothing more than to be one of the exceptional fathers, but fell far short of the mark. When my girls were little, I would say that I was very good. Always engaged in their activities, a storyteller who delighted their friends, I took them places, taught them things, and enjoyed every minute of it. Then something happened. A lot of things really. I lost myself. Addiction, money troubles, and deep depression overcame me. I wandered out into an unfamiliar world, and separated myself from everything and almost everyone I loved. I abandoned life...one bad decision after another...and became an alien to my children. I figured the farther I stayed away from them the better off their lives would be.
It takes a lifetime to build relationships and establish any kind of trust after such devastation has been scattered. My greatest joy is that we are working on it together. One step of their choosing at a time. They became the exceptional parents I dreamed of being. In each one of them and their spouses, I see some of my Dad who lives on through their love. Their children will remember them as being kind, patient, tender, and lighthearted. I wish the happiest of Father’s Day to Jon, Steven, and Matt. You are loved and admired more than you will ever know.
Whether our fathers lived up to our expectations or not, Whether we have lived up to our own standards or not, there is always room for hope and healing.
Thanks to Ben White for sharing their work on Unsplash.
